Of Vipers and Serpants, and Aurors
by hannahruby3316
Summary: Unsolved deaths brings together elite special forces across the wizarding world, reuniting old friends, loves, new friends, new loves. Together they will fight to solve some of life's biggest mysteries of the cruelty of others and matters of the heart. Ideas inspired by JKR characters and the works the Kill Bill series.
1. Chapter 1

All Draco Malfoy heard as he entered into Number 12 Grimmauld Place was mass hysteria. The new Auror headquarters was filled with shouts of profanity and the distinct sound of glass shattering, more than likely as it met its untimely demise against a wall. Over the last forty-eight hours he had grown used to walking into the tantrums of his coworkers. Evidently something had upset certain members of the Auror team more than others…

"…how could you not tell me that you were bringing _them _into this?! When you said you were calling in reinforcements I was pissed enough, but this just tops it all off Harry! You told us you had everything under control and we'd have nothing to worry about!"

"I know what I said, Ron! But you know as well as I do that the tables have turned very quickly on us! There have been three more bodies found this week alone. Two of them were tourists visiting from other countries. This has gone international and we need someone who specializes in international affairs."

Draco couldn't help but notice the distinct sound of defeat in Potter's voice. That tone alone kept him from walking in on the quarreling friends. He needed to see where this conversation was going before he decided to get too involved.

"Yes, Harry! Someone! Anyone! But, no, you had to call _her_, and now not only is she flying over here to the rescue, but she's bringing her whole bloody team with her!"

Draco stood leaning against the wall outside the kitchen where the argument was taking place, wondering who this "her" was and why Weasley was so against the idea of her coming to help. Truth be told, the Auror team could use all the help they could get these days. Fifteen unsolved deaths in six months was rapidly starting to push the out of control button. He didn't care if the ministry recruited a team of knitting housewives, if it meant that they could get a second set of eyes on the case.

"Harry, you know the ministry has a damned good reason behind getting rid of female Aurors and now you are bringing in not one, but four and expecting us to be relieved and thankful. What's that old saying about a woman scorned? And now we will have four scorned bitches in our way. It's a huge liability and you know it and sit there pretending to be ignorant to it."

"Ron, only two are from our ministry originally, and they aren't as scorned as you'd think about it. On the contrary, they've thrived in spite of the antique ideas of our ministry. The American embassy took them into their Auror training program when Kingsley threw them out of ours. Their training was even more intense than ours, and involved muggle military tactics as well. In spite of it all, they have exceeded all of our abilities and have honed skills that could outshine our most gifted brothers. They have proven their strengths on Black Ops mission internationally, in territories that would make us all wet our pants."

"Whatever, Harry. I will keep my mouth shut and stick to focusing on doing my job, but I give it forty-eight hours tops before you send them packing. The last thing we need are four hormonal bitches getting in our way."

"She's changed you know. She seemed cold, ruthless, scary even. I talked to Luna when I was trying to finalize everything, but she wouldn't give me any answers as to what's happened to her. She's not the same girl she was seven years ago. The war changed all of us, especially her, but I have never heard her sound like that, no matter how bad things got. Something's happened to her, destroyed her in some way."

"Whatever it was, we could have helped, but no she ran away from us! She got pissed when the ministry turned her down for the academy and left us all! She could've done something else, married me, started our family, but no, she just left. And now she's probably just some old lonely spinster and that why she's miserable. I don't even want to look at her."

"Well they will all be here within the hour, so I suggest you get used to seeing her here. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get hold of Draco and Neville and the rest of the team."

"Already here Potter," Draco drawled, taking his cue to stop eavesdropping and entered the kitchen.

"Very good. I'll be in my office making some calls. If you two don't mind, we're going to need two get a few guest rooms ready, four of them. Like it or not Ron, they'll be here awhile, at least until they can figure out somewhere more permanent if they wish," and with that, Harry stormed off.

"What the hell was all that about Weasley?" Draco asked as they carried bedding upstairs to the guest floor.

"Evidently Kingsley is getting desperate and has decided to see some error in his ways. He had Harry seek out some backup and the best Harry could come up with is a team of whiny, hormonal girls," he spat in disgust.

"Surely they're a little more qualified than girl scouts than you're giving them credit for if Potter is sticking his neck on the line to get them here."

"I don't even care anymore, just as long as _she_ stays out of my damn way."

"Who exactly is this _she_ you keep referring to?

"Oh, you'll see soon enough Malfoy. And I promise when you do, you'll hate it as much as I do."

"That was Luna. They're less than five minutes out. I'm going to head on out front to wait if anyone wants to join me," Harry said pocketing his cell phone. Over the last hour parts of the Auror team started spilling into headquarters, some openly willing, some just curious. The majority of the Auror force slat out refused to be any part of it all together. Surprisingly, the Minister himself chose to be out of it too, requesting to be as uninvolved as possible.

_Coward,_ Draco couldn't help but thinking as he rose from his chair to follow Harry outside, letting his curiosity of their new guests getting the better of him. He never figured he'd be the only willing to openly go along will all of this without hesitation, but then again very little surprised him anymore.

They'd barely made it down the steps when the roar of an engine caught their attention. A glossy black Rubicon came roaring around the corner, tires catching pavement, squealing in its wake. The massive Jeep rumbled to a halt as Harry let out a slow appreciative whistle.

"Man, I've always had a thing for American Automobiles. She's gorgeous!"

Even Draco had to admire the sheer size of the SUV; the black tinted windows, bordering illegal, the dark rims, even the row of flood lights. It was a badass piece of machinery and he knew it was more than capable of taking on the terrains of dangerous areas than any British car. There as a shimmering, silver graphic across the hood, a constellation, making his inner nerd grin with delight. It was a shockingly feminine touch to the beast of a vehicle.

More shocking than the graphics, were the three figures emerging from the beast. He immediately recognized Luna as she exited the driver's seat, her long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, still too big for her face. They no longer made her look wild eyed and crazy, but more exotic and sensual, hypnotizing even.

"Hello Harry, Malfoy," she smiled at them, hugging Harry tightly.

"Hey Luna. It's so good to see you. How long has it been? Three years?'

"Four!" she corrected. "Harry these wonderful woman are an irreplaceable part of our team; Claire and Jessa. We met up with them in New York and we've been inseparable since," she beamed.

"I'm so thankful you all could make it on such short notice. This is one of the members of the local Auror quadrant, Draco Malfoy," Harry explained to their visitors. Draco only managed a short not at them, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He didn't know which was more impressive, the beast of a vehicle they rode in on, or the fact that there were three gorgeous women clad in tight black combat gear on their doorstep. He was pulled from his wayward thoughts when Harry cleared his throat, feigning a cough to cover up his chuckle at Draco's expense.

"Not that I don't appreciate you three ladies, but I could have sworn there would be four of you joining us," he laughed. "Where is she?"

"Oh you know her," Jessa smiled, her voice holding a very southern drawl, not that of a New Yorker. "She had to make sure all the gear she insisted on bringing across the big pond got tucked away safe and sound first. Priorities, priorities. I think the only thing she didn't bring was her bathroom sink."

"Besides that, she's developed a need to be fashionably late everywhere we go ever since…" Claire added in, but got cut off by a sharp jab from Jessa to her ribs.

"Speak of the she-devil," Jessa interrupted, "I think I hear her bike now," glancing up the quiet street.

"Bike?" Draco asked, his eyebrow quirking up in surprise. Clearly his ability to be surprised had come rolling back along with these vixens. Whoever this woman was, he was officially dying to meet her. If she was anything like the three goddesses gracing their doorstep, he could die a happy man right then and there on the sidewalk.

He looked up the street following the direction of the noise of a revving street bike rounding the corner just in time to witness by far the sexiest thing he'd ever seen in his twenty-five years. The "bike", as Jessa so modestly put it was a specimen to behold in itself; sleek, with the most intricate graphic jobs he'd ever seen. The body was almost solid black, the paint job varying through shades of gray and silver to end in shades of green. The scale-like pattern represented a fierce snake, and as a true Slytherin at heart, he had to appreciate it. Another constellation mapped out on a smaller section of the tank caught his eye and he couldn't help the grin he felt growing across his face.

The bike itself paled in comparison to the body that began untangling itself off of it. He soaked in the sight of the rider, starting with her shit-kicker combat boots, one firmly planted on the ground, the other perched on the bike seat. Her body lazily leaned on the seat as his gaze traveled up her long, leather-clad legs, up to full hips and a delicate waistline. A small tan patch of skin winked at him beneath the hem of a snug leather vest. As the rider began tugging off her gloves, he followed her delicate hands up to tan, toned, bare arms, to the most perfect chest. The zipper of the vest had pulled up to a stop right in the center of her breasts, emphasizing her cleavage and a glimpse of what appeared to be a tattoo on her left breast over her heart. He as suddenly drawn away from his reverie as she reached up to pull off her helmet.

There on her left forearm, red and puckered was the last thing he'd expected to see, MUDBLOOD. He could feel her eyes on him through the dark shield of her helmet. The gears in his head had started clanging together loudly in his ears. He knew exactly who "she" was. His jaw dropped as she tucked her helmet under her arm, laying her gloves inside it, and walked up to him toe to toe. He felt his throat draw tight and the blush rush to his face as her hand reached forward to cup his chin, her dark whiskey eyes never leaving his. He felt the slight pressure of her pushing his jaw closed, evidently it had hit the ground.

She slowly backed away from him, heading up the steps to the landing at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. As he hand reached the doorknob and she began to turn it, she paused, throwing a glance over her shoulder. With the faintest of smirks in his direction and said, "Long time, no see, Malfoy,' before entering the house.


	2. Chapter 2

"Who the bloody hell was that?!" Draco yelled at Luna.

"Hermione, you dope. I mean, I know it's been a while, but gees Malfoy."

"I know it's Granger, but…but…um, whoa. I guess I just wasn't expecting, you know…that," he fumbled. Luna chuckled at his verbal diarrhea.

He knew it was her as soon as he'd seen her scar on her arm. He expected to see her bushy hair and freckles and brown eyes. What he didn't expect to see Hermione Granger with a sexy pixie haircut, laden with blonde highlights. He definitely didn't expect to see beautiful sun tanned skin covering a leather clad body, with tattoos. He was thrown off by the way she'd actually touched him! He expected her brown eyes, but no they weren't brown like he'd thought. How had he never noticed her eyes in school? In the brief moment she had stood toe-to-toe with him, he memorized her eyes. They held so many shades of brown and gold, even a deep amber color. Like whiskey shimmering through a crystal decanter. They held him captivated, hypnotized and he couldn't look away from them while she stood there, her hand on his jaw. He followed her eyes as she backed away and as she turned from him, he'd felt empty, wanting her to look at him again. It wasn't until she had looked back in his direction, not into his eyes, but a few inches past his face that he even noticed the little diamond stud glittering in her lower lip.

He wanted her eyes back on him so bad, wanted her body close to his, wanted to breathe her in and memorize every inch of her. No, she was not the Granger he had momentarily attempted to prepare himself for, she was hot, tough, and obviously very complicated. He gathered his confusion and followed her lead back into the house, Potter following. The other three women sharing concerned glances at each other before entering the house.

As he entered back into the house, Draco saw her figure traveling up the stairs, her long fingers caressing the banister like an old lover. He watched her gently touch the pictures and portraits lining the wall, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, like she was replaying a memory in her head. Her diamond stud winked at him seductively. _Man that woman could devour the floor with her walk._ He could feel himself wanting to drift after her, but instead watched her disappear onto the second floor landing.

"It's Malfoy right?" Jessa interrupted his gaze with her country drawl. At his silent nod, she threw a black duffel to him. "She forgot he bag in the truck. You should go take it to her."

"I doubt I am the one she'd want anywhere near her or her things. I don't know if she or Luna ever mentioned me, but I wasn't one of her friends before. In fact she probably would have killed me seven years ago if I had stuck around long enough."

"They both mentioned you a few years ago before… well just before. And yes, in the sense you are thinking too. She didn't have very many compliments headed your way, but never said anything too horrible. In fact I think you are one of the few that inspired her to not give up and move to the States believe it or not. However, she's not that eighteen year old girl anymore. She has been through a lot that only we know. She's changed, and not for the better I'll add." She refused to meet his eyes. He didn't know if he'd offended her or what, but it was strange to watch her, talk at him, but not to him. She seemed to gaze at the small space above his ear instead of his eyes, just like Hermione had in the steps.

"Contrary to everything you may have put her through as a kid, she is a grown ass woman now that I have known for seven years. I haven't seen her touch a man in four years unless it was to put their face in the pavement and I haven't seen her look anyone in the eyes unless it was to put them to their death," at his confused look, she added, "we will explain the complexities of our team later during the briefing. Just take her the damn bag, she may want to put something a little less scary on. Be sure to tell her I said that," she smiled before retreating up the hall.

_What the hell was all that supposed to mean? They hated each other in school. Even if she hadn't "hated" him, he had made her childhood absolute hell, regardless. _ He just hoped she wouldn't try to put his face in the pavement as Jessa had said she'd done to other men. Maybe she'd think of the duffel as an olive branch of sorts. _Yeah right,_ he thought. _She'll probably use as a weapon to bludgeon me with. _Going against his original judgment he headed upstairs to try and track her down.

He had heard her moving around before he saw her. Of course she would pick the very last room in the hall, furthest away from everyone. As he turned into the room, all the strength he had managed to keep, immediately left him. She had pulled down the zipper of her vest and had it halfway off her shoulders when he cleared his throat.

"You know, they invented these ingenious things called doors," he teased at her.

She didn't respond, just turned to face him front on. _Damn, _he thought. His dream of her being naked under there was gone, she evidently had a tiny black bandeau top on under her tight little vest, not that it covered much. "You know they came up with thing called knocking," she spat back at his shoulder as she threw her vest over on the bed. She still refused to look him in the eye. Merlin, he wanted to see her eyes again, wanted to get drunk on them. He took advantage of her lack of eye contact to take her in. He followed the curve of her neck down to her bare shoulders. He realized that she had a sexy black viper tattooed over her heart. Black, no color, it seemed to curl over her heart as if to squeeze the life out of it. Sensing his gaze at her bare skin, she turned away to go sit on the bed. She sat facing away from him as if trying to hide something from his sight.

He moved across the room towards her, and could have sworn he almost heard a hiss erupt from her at his presence. "Jessa sent me up with your stuff. She said to tell you that you may want to put something on a little less scary before you go downstairs," he said laying the bag on the bed. He looked at her back and realized it was covered in long pink lines, crisscrossing over the entire span of her. The disappeared into the waistband of her leather pants. It almost looked like someone had branded her with chicken wire. He grew nauseas at the idea that something, or worse someone, had put those marks on her. He saw her head nod at his confession, and as she leaned over the untie her boots he couldn't help but admire the curve of her back, her firm muscles, and tan skin despite the hash marks. For some reason he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to touch them.

As soon as he touched her skin he immediately knew he'd made a huge mistake. One minute he was standing behind her touching her, then next she had him pinned to the bed, her hand at his throat, a hiss escaping her lips again. He knew he heard it this time. She straddled his waist, her muscled legs squeezing him, cutting back his air supply. She had launched herself at him in a viper-like death strike. He had wanted to see her eyes again, but not this way. Her pupils had retracted back into almost snake-like slits, and held him in some sort of trance. He couldn't pull his eyes away or form any semblance of a coherent thought.

He could feel his vision growing dark, trying to keep from blacking out, he reached up to cup her face, trying to pull her focus away from him. "Hermione," he gasped out at her. Her vision faltered and her eyes clouded a bit. Like being burned with a hot iron, she dropped her hand from his throat and blinked rapidly, breaking her gaze.

"Oh my God, Draco! I am so sorry!" she apologized. "Are you ok?" She ran her hands over his face, down his throat. She pulled the collar of his t-shirt back to look at his collarbone. She saw bruises forming on his throat and started shaking. She flung herself off of him at lightning speed and threw herself across the room, backed into the corner.

"Hermione I'm fine," he reassured her getting to his feet shakily. He took a tentative step towards her when she flung her hands out at him.

"No! Don't come any closer!" She was shaking, her eyes to the floor again. He wished she would look at him to see for herself that he was alright. "Get Luna!" she screamed. He didn't dare move, didn't dare leave her. He just took the sight of her in, broken in the corner. He was fine, why didn't she get that. He didn't know what to do so he just looked at her. Her tattoo rippled over her heart, he could have sworn it struck its tongue out as if smelling the air. Then it stilled again, curled in on itself more than it was before. It clearly had magical properties, a lot like his dark mark. Where the hell did she get a dark arts tattoo? He noticed he chest wash flushed and covered in sweat, her breaths shallow causing her tight stomach to contract.

Oh my God, her stomach. It was well muscled and would have been the most delicious thing he'd ever seen if it hadn't been dissected by a jagged, angry red scar clear from one flank to the other.

"What the hell happened to your stomach? No, what happened to your back _and_ stomach?!"

"Just get Luna," she gathered herself from off the wall and headed past him, back to the bag. She wrenched her duffel open digging through it. She roughly tugged a snug grey long-sleeve t-shirt on and turned on him. "There they're all covered, you didn't see anything. Now please, Malfoy, go get Luna," she sighed to him. He could hear the shame in her voice.

"Tell me what happened to you first, he demanded.

"Dammit Malfoy! It's none of your concern!"

"Like hell it's not!"

"Look, they're my scars and pretty soon everyone in this bloody building will know more about me than I want, so please, do not make a big deal out of this right now. If you are that repulsed by me, as your face shows, then I will be sure to keep them well covered."

He evidently didn't hide his distaste very well. He wasn't repulse din any way by her or the scars, just at the idea that something did that to her. He felt a deep need to protect her from everyone's eyes. Yes, he wanted her covered, but not because she was disgusting or damaged.

"Look, I'm not repulse din away by you, quite the opposite actually," he admitted. She still wouldn't look him in the eye, but he could see her eyes grow wide in shock. "I haven't ben able to take my eyes off of you since you rolled in here on that sexy as hell bike. I need to know what happened to you, and I prefer not to hear it in front of everyone else, if it is going to be discussed as you said. So please, Hermione, tell me what happened."

She didn't know how he'd managed to cross the room back to her without her noticing, but before she knew it, his hand was on her chin, pulling her eyes up to his. She made herself keep her eyes closed, she knew what could happen if she made eye contact with him. She wanted to bare herself to him at the sound of him saying her name. She knew she'd slipped up earlier calling him Draco instead of Malfoy; she crossed the line and almost killed him; she couldn't, no wouldn't let that happen again.

"Please look at me," he begged.

"I can open my eyes, but I can't look too long into yours, ok?'' she whispered, almost too quietly. It wasn't a question he realized, but an admission. She was making herself not look at him, she was keeping herself in check for his wellbeing, she didn't want to hurt him, and she cared.

"Ok." Her eyes opened slowly, and he saw that her pupils had gone back to normal. She kept her gaze on his nose instead of his eyes.

"I can't go into full detail right now, simply because once I do, I won't be fit to shit. My life the last seven years hasn't been all rainbows and sunshine, and victory tours. I lived through war as a child, fought in it, and was there in the end of it all. I never would have thought the war against Voldemort would be the easiest battle I would fight. I want to tell you, but I can't. I will tell you this though," she trailed off and finally looked into his eyes. "Someone made the mistake of taking my soul and leaving me for dead, and I will hunt them to the ends of the Earth if that's what it takes to feel normal again." She closed her eyes and pulled out of his grip.

"We need to get downstairs," he said. He was shocked she actually let herself meet his eyes, felt warm and tingly all over, and then empty the minute her eyes closed. All he got from her was a small nod, as she led the way downstairs.


	3. Chapter 3

As they walked silently downstairs, Hermione couldn't help but let her thoughts drift to Draco Malfoy. She couldn't believe she let the viper in her get the best of her; she attacked him, could have killed him even. She hadn't lost control of herself like that in years, she'd always been sure never to make eye contact with anyone, or she'd wear dark glasses to stave the effect of her eyes. All four of them had the ability to use their eyes as weapons, they'd been enhanced that way- to be cold, killing machines if needed, ruthless and brutal and fearless. They could move with stealth and strike out at their prey when necessary. They'd all entered the enhancement program for individual reasons, but she knew it had been due to the personal traumas they'd all experienced, however of the three of them hers was the worst. She felt that was why her abilities were so hard to control.

She could feel his presence behind her, and could picture his broad shoulders and tight muscles under his grey shirt, how his strong arms looked at her crossed them over his chest, his rough hands on her face. A woman couldn't help but appreciate a man in uniform and she secretly thanked the Ministry for getting rid of the ghastly Auror robes they used to don. The dark shirts, black combat pants and boots were much more practical in today's world where hand-to-hand combat paired with traditional wand dueling.

He was taller than she remembered, at least six three from what she could tell. She'd always felt tall for a woman, an in spite her physique, he made her feel delicate and feminine deep down- wait, scratch that. She was far from a delicate flower, she scolded herself. She was damaged and scarred and ruthless. He hand went to her stomach, feeling the crease across her torso through her shirt. She scolded herself; a man like Draco would never be able to think of her as attractive or feminine. When she had been attacked, her attackers had been sure that no man would ever want her again, they left her with a galaxy of scars all over her, constellations she could see throughout the day, could feel in the darkest of nights.

She couldn't believe she even gave him the small, vague answer she had when he'd interrogated her about them, but some piece of her wanted him to know. She wanted to be able to tell someone about them on her own terms, versus what she was fixing to have to do in a room full of Aurors. She heard him move, before she felt him place his hand on her lower back guiding her into the large sitting room downstairs. She tried not to tense too much, she wanted him to know that she wouldn't go after him again like she had before. She couldn't help but feel shivers go up her spine and down her arm at his warm hand on her. She could feel a small burn it carried with it, and fought the flush she felt taking over her face. She was a warrior dammit, and in the matter of an hour, she was turning into a sloppy mess over Draco Malfoy. Her guilt took over her and she took a longer stride to pull away from his hand, and immediately regretted t as she opened the door to the sitting room. She hadn't expected to walk into a room full of welcoming smiles and approving glances. She was used to being tough and meeting resistance from others head on, she didn't know what to do with this. She wished he'd put his hand on her, it had felt soothing and reassuring.

In the center of the room was a large round table that could probably seat close to thirty people, if she figured correctly. The table reminded her of childhood stories she had heard about King Arthur and his Knights; symbolizing equality. She made her way to a seat that Luna had saved her, giving her best friend an appreciative look. Her sisters were there, her team, and with them she felt stronger, more in tune with herself. She could feel Draco falling in to the seat next to her, and refused to look in his direction. She glanced around the table, taking in the familiar faces of Harry, Neville Longbottom, Blaise Zabini, Dean Thomas, Oliver Wood, an unhappy Ron and his brother Bill who seemed indifferent completely. She had hoped to see more numbers, knowing that there were at least thirty active Aurors for the Ministry, but was thankful for the eight she'd managed to get nonetheless.

She heard Harry clear his throat and look around the table. "Now that everyone has made it, I guess it's time to get down to business. As you all know we have had fifteen unsolved deaths in the last six months. These deaths all took place in muggle communities, but somehow all carried a magical fingerprint, that our crime scene investigators found at each scene. They were all killed by different means," he explained as the lights in the room grew dim and a projection screen appeared on the wall at the flick of his wand. As the images of the scenes appeared, he continued. "Some of the victims were strangled, stabbed, shot, even set up to look like suicide. As we all know, we have come to a dead end in our investigations and I apologize, but I got emergency approval from Kingsley to bring in reinforcements."

As murmurs began to erupt around the table, Harry held up his hand to silence everyone. "Now I know we want to feel like it is up to us to solve this on a local level, but I assure you I have called in the most qualified specialists I could find. You will all listen to what they have to say and that's final. I know you all know Luna Lovegood," he smiled pointedly at Luna who waved around the table. "And these are her associates Claire Embry and Jessa LeVainne. And of course we all know Hermione Granger."

"—Ashworth," Hermione interjected.

"I'm sorry?" Harry questioned, not expecting her interruption.

"My name hasn't been Granger for five years. We may have only been married a few months before…" she halted, her lower lip shaking. Clearing her throat she continued, "Anyway, it's Ashworth. Hermione Granger no longer exists and you know it, so get it right for all of our sakes.

"My apologies, I had heard you married but since you hadn't said anything of him and you wore no ring I assumed…"

"Well, clearly you assumed wrong, Harry," Luna scolded him, reigning the topic to a halt.

Desperately needing to change the subject, Hermione stood and walked around the circle towards the projection screen. She felt the distinct POP of Jessa smacking her ass in support and tried to cover her jump in surprise. With the flick of her hand, Harry's screen had changed into a new home screen emblazoned with a large crest. All of the Aurors, with the exception of Harry gasped in recognition of the insignia. As everyone took in the Black Viper curled around a group of cluster of weapons, more curious whispers erupted.

"As you can tell, the four of us are the members as what has become known and dubbed as the Black Mamba quadrat of the International Magical Federation. We are an elite group of the IMF who were selected as a test group of promising female agents who exceeded the expectations of the Auror Academy. We all possess unique gifts and because of such, we were pulled to be enhanced, altered, with new abilities and skills that would make us invincible in covert operations and territories dangerous to the normal wizard. Our typical daily workflow consists of basic criminal investigations, raids, all the way across the spectrum to abductions and retrievals, weapons developments and assassinations." She heard all the men in the room gasp as her mention of assassinations. She knew they would no longer see them as weak women at this point and fought to control the need to gloat at her power.

"I am going to be blatantly honest with everyone here. Our caseload is horrific and we are taking on this assignment against the IMF's recommendation. We only have a short window of time to get this under wraps, so if anyone of you assholes has a problem with some women crashing your turf, we need to know now." She let her gaze travel the room, looking for any objections, pointedly at Ron who silently looked at the table instead of her and just shook his head at her silently. She stole a quick glance at Harry and Draco's faces and seeing their grins, took a deep breath and began her brief.

As she was talking, Draco couldn't help thinking of her sad admission earlier. A streak of confusion went through him. _Granger got married? No, not Granger. Ashworth. Where was the asshole of a husband? Why the hell would any man let a woman like her go?_ He couldn't help but sense something else behind it. The way her voice caught in her throat and her lip trembled. All confidence she had shown with her posture when entering the room had vanishes at Potter's screw up.

He truly was curious at his anomaly of a woman standing against the wall across the room. He had definitely been shocked at her grand entrance earlier on her motorcycle, even more intrigued by her map of scars, and now completely dumbfounded as he saw her team's crest emblem on their projection screen with the crest of the league of elite he'd only heard legends of , but had never seen. As she verbally beat down the few in the room opposed to their presence, he felt a grin warm his face at her burst of confidence. At her glare around the table, her saw the slightest flicker of Gryffindor spirit, perhaps the last shred of it she may have left.

As she looked at him he was blown away at whatever emotion flickered across her eyes as she made eye contact with him momentarily. It was only for a split second, but it was still the most intense look he'd ever seen. With a wave of her hand the screen changed and everyone in the room gasped. The Black Mamba crest was replaced by a screen filled with four color-coded sets of file folders. She still couldn't look at it after all these years, ashamed at her inability to make it go away.

"As you can see," she began, "I have coded our active cases into four different colored sets. The white are forty-nine US cases we have processed, twenty-one red represent the Russian Republic, eight yellow for the Japanese regions, and now I have added fifteen blue to represent your cases."

"Over the last four years we have had seventy-nine confirmed deaths, nee in almost all US states, one in each Russian Republic, and one in each of Japan's regions. Our numbers ceased six months ago at the same time your numbers started," Claire added to help better explain to the group.

"How many people have been working with you all during all this?" Dean asked looking awestruck at the mass numbers.

"You're looking it," Claire answered. "Nobody felt the ned to help us outside of the US. The muggle law enforcement in each area processed the scene, we obtained the records and worked them on our own."

"Why did you all not request our aid?" Neville interjected.

"We did," Hermione cut in almost at a whisper. "I sent Kingsley a good ten owls on each case at least. Eventually he adjusted his delivery wards and wouldn't take anymore. I never beg, but I begged the Ministry for aid, and he shut the door in my face."

"Why do you all think we were so shocked when Harry asked Hermione for our help?" Jessa asked, her drawl holding a slight tint of distaste for the situation. "We almost didn't come, since the IMF had us convinced that bridges were already burned between the countries. But, we decided to be the bigger of the two bitches and hopped on a plane and flew fourteen hours here. Thank goodness for personal jets," she laughed. "I don't know what I would do if we didn't get to bring Hermione's vehicles! Could you see me trying to drive a Mini Cooper? I still don't know why you insisted on bringing all six of your babies, it's like you're not planning on coming back to the States when all this mess is over."

"Anyway, back on subject," Hermione interrupted everyone's laughter, hoping to cut their thoughts off before anyone got any ideas on what Jessa had just said. "We know you all didn't find any connections between the victims, however we've been connecting dots for the last four years. Thankfully we know someone who can hack into FBI and CIA databases to get the intel we needed," she gave a slight smirked to Jessa who sat fidgeting in her seat, a grin on her face.

"I am going to bring up the files and I think at a single glance you will be able to see what is off on some." With another wave of her hand seven-eight files open to show headshots of all the victims.

"I thought you said there were eight in Japan," Oliver commenter, "None of them are Japanese, or Asian at all!"

"Exactly," replied Claire, "We have come to gather that every case has actually been a victim of English origin. None of them were born in their countries of residence and death."

"Wait a second, you said forty-nine US states and deaths," Draco interrupted. "Why not fifty? Ad there's only forty-eight cases listed up there." At his observation the other three Mambas looked at Hermione. Every Aurors gaze went to her as well. All she could do was at her hands. She slid into the chair closest to her, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Claire cleared her throat.

"Well technically if we are counting there were fifty-one victims, one lived, one death was considered irrelevant originally because of the circumstances in which she died. We originally didn't associate the last three for the simple fact that they were so different from the others, more intricately planned out." She leaner forward to their squad leader and spoke to her tenderly. "Hermione, we need to show them, I know you don't want to, but it's why we've come this far. Why you came back to this retched place."

Every one of the Aurors exchanged confused glances before looking to her expectantly. With a deep breath, Hermione flicked her wrist to reveal an embedded orange file. It opened to show a handsome man with dark blonde wavy hair, blue eyes, sun-kissed skin with a dimpled grin on his face, everyone in the room knew that this was a genuinely innocent man, full of joy in the prime of his life. He had his arm obviously around someone, but half the picture was cropped out.

"There was no morgue shot due to the nature of his death and discovery," Jessa explained. "He was found by his wife in their home in New York one evening when she came back from a business trip to Florida."

"Did anyone suspect the wife?" Bill questioned.

"Absolutely not!" Claire yelled at him.

"Why the hell not? Seems like she could be the one responsible," He shouted back.

Quietly Hermione stood on shaky legs. Everyone's eyes followed her as she walked over to the screen and touched the man's face softly. She turned to them, and finally gathered enough strength to speak. "The wife was never questioned because her alibi was confirmed. Two weeks later she was kidnapped and tortured by an unknown team of attackers. They tried to destroy her by cutting her eight month old fetus out of her and leaving her to rot."

"So that's where you're getting fifty-one deaths," Harry observed. "Where's the wife's file?"

"Luna looked to Hermione with concern for the woman who she considered a sister, as if asking permission. Hermione cleared her throat and looked pleadingly back to her before saying, "Just get it over with," and walked out of the sitting room.

"I'll do it Luna," whispered Claire, standing. "We said fifty-one victims. Technically there were only forty-nine deaths seeing as the wife lived and the IMF doesn't consider the fetus to be a viable life."

She flicked her wrist at the screen and the picture of the man expanded showing them who he had his arm around. The room grew eerily silent at what they saw. The handsome man had his arm around his back, pulling her to his side. Her long curly chestnut hair cascaded down her back and her hand rested on her enlarged stomach.

"Graham Ashworth, age twenty-nine, killed in New York and his wife Hermione," She whispered. "She was taken and tortured. And her baby was discovered later," she finished with last flick of her wrist to show a grotesque image of a large glass jar with a fully formed dead infant floating in embalming fluid inside. As a tear rolled down her cheek she quickly waved the images off the screen.

"I am going to go find her," Luna offered to the group, rising from her chair. Everyone was too afraid to say anything. "Let's take a little break and we'll finish up when we get back," she said as she left the room as everyone hear a motorcycle rev up and drive away.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco thought he was going to be sick. He'd seen her scars and couldn't fathom how she could have survived such a horrendous thing. He understood what she meant when she told Harry that the Hermione Granger they used to know was gone. His thoughts went to the picture of her and her husband. He figured it to be around three years ago given the timeline of death dates he'd seen on the files. She had grown in to a very beautiful woman, full of life and happiness. He felt a twinge of jealousy toward the couple, blissfully unaware of what would happen to them.

He understood how everyday grief and loss can eat away at you until you begin to morph into something else. He thought back to what she had said upstairs, _"Someone made the mistake of taking my soul and leaving me for dead." _She had changed herself in every way possible because she couldn't be who she was before. He should feel sorry for her, pity her even, but he knew that pity wasn't what she needed. She needed results on solving the case so that she could get closure and rebuild herself. He realized the only people who had left the room to take a break were the Mambas. After ten minutes all three came back sans Hermione, looking worried.

"She took off on her bike and we can't find her. I can't even sense her, I think she's trying to shield me out. I don't even know where to even begin looking for her," Claire rambles nervously.

"What do you mean you can't sense her?" Ron asked.

"We're enhanced you idiot. Our senses are heightened to mirror a viper. Our vision, sense of smell, everything. They've altered us to be able to pick up on each other so that when we are blind in certain terrains we can still sense one another, kind of like telepathy. We can't communicate verbally, but we can pick up on each other's emotions and general location," she said to his shoulder.

"Why don't you look me in the face when you're insulting me?!" He demanded.

"I don't think she can mate," Oliver informed him. "None of them make eye contact with anyone other than themselves. Did they alter your eyes too?"

Claire broke away her death glare at Ron's shoulder, briefly making contact with Wood. "Yes and no," she replied before breaking contact. "Originally we were just enhancing our natural abilities, then when Graham died. Hermione took on extra experimental modifications. Because we are all connected, when she gets upset and loses control of certain attributes, we all pick up on it and carry a replica of sorts. She was altered to be an assassin. She can make eye-contact for less than ten seconds and render a man immobile. Her eyes have a sort of hypnotic quality to them. At first she has immense control and rarely used it, if she did it was only to get confessions from individuals. Then as she got worse, her control got worse and started spilling onto us. We usually wear sun-glasses or contacts, but eventually the contacts would dissolve, almost as if venom was eating through them."

"She became the Black Mamba," Oliver concluded.

"Unfortunately yes."

"I'm sorry," murmured Ron back at Claire. "I'm just a little out of sorts with all this."

"Oh, I know, trust me," she chuckled. "I am just as out of sorts as the rest of you all. I have never been to England before and so far, this isn't the tourist experience I thought I'd be having."

As everyone laughed along with her, Jessa gasped clenching her chest in pain. "Oh my God, I can feel her," she let out on a strangled breath. Looking slightly green she began heaving. Blaise procured a basin for her and ran to her side as she got violently sick. Between raged breaths she managed to get out, "She's crying, she never cries anymore. I didn't think she could."

Blaise knelt next to her rubbing circles on the small of her back. "Can you get any idea of where she's at?" He questioned her.

"I need a piece of paper," she groaned out, retching in the basin again. Blaize let go of her momentarily to get her a notepad and pencil. Grasping the pencil in a shaky hand, she began drawing at lightning speed images they could vaguely make out. A tree, a fence, a child…

"Is that a swing set?" Blaise prompted her. At her nod, Draco jumped up, knowing exactly where she went.

"I think I know where she might be. I'll go get her, I promise," he told Jessa. "Blaize, you got her?" he asked at his friend caring for the Southern Belle.

"Of course," he smiled back. Draco nodded, running out the door. At Draco's disappearing figure, Blaise turned to gather Jessa's hair up, procuring a hair tie and securing it behind her out of her face. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," he whispered in her ear soothingly. She only managed a nod as she took his hand and followed him out of the room.

"Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Texas anymore," she laughed as they entered her guestroom upstairs.

"I thought that was Kansas," he said confused at her muggle reference. He went into the bathroom getting her a washcloth.

"Yeah, but this crap never happened when I was back in Texas," she answered as he came across to the room to her sitting on the edge of her bed.

"How the hell did you end up in the Mambas in New York?"

"That's a long ass story, made for a rainy day sweetheart," she drawled making him grin. "Let's just say you don't get recruited to the Mamba's by having happy start. We were only successful at the enhancements due to our gifts and our need to overcome some tragedy or event. My story may not be as graphic as Hermione's but that doesn't mean I didn't get screwed over in life."

"Well _sweetheart_," he replied, imitation her choice of endearment, "it tends to rain a lot here, so hopefully you'll tell me that rainy day story after all." As he handed her the wash cloth, their hands brushed momentarily and she could have sworn she felt electricity shoot between the two of them. Her eyes widened in shock and she let herself look into his eyes, before she realized what she was doing.

His breath caught in his chest at the sight of her. He hadn't really had a chance to look at her eyes before, and he silently kicked himself for not noticing how intoxicating they were before. _How could I miss that?!_ To say they were green, was doing them an injustice. They were about fifty shades of green, like a mosaic of sea glass. They shimmered at him, filled with unshed tears as if her small admission towards her past was more painful than she had let on. Around the iris was the faintest hint of a ring of violet. How the hell did a woman get away with having eyes like that and not have every man drooling at her feet. He remembered when she had sat down at the round table, her long strawberry blonde hair draped over one of her shoulders. When she had gotten ill and he'd gone to pull it back out of her face, he noticed the snake she had tattooed on her neck. The head of it poked out of the collar of her shirt, like it was whispering in her ear. It was delicate and green, speckled with all shades of greens and purples, unlike Hermione's Black Mamba. It suited her, he mused. Delicate and tough all in one.

He saw her throat constrict, watching him stare into her eyes. He hoped she wouldn't let her eyes break away like the others had throughout their meeting. A silent tear rolled out of her eye, resting on her high cheekbones dusted with tiny freckles. He absently reached his hand forward, his thumb brushing it away. She closed her eyes, sighing at his touch. She reached up and grasped his wrist gently pulling it away from her face.

"You really shouldn't look in my eyes like that," she confessed. "I have the best control over it out of all of us, but that's not to say that I couldn't lose control. I don't want to hurt you."

"Did you ever think that maybe I wouldn't mind you losing control with me? If anyone is going to hurt me, I would be ok as long as it was you."

Confused by his words, she sighed and pushed herself up from the bed. "I don't know the first thing about feelings and emotions or what you do with them, Blaise. I joined the Mamba's at eighteen, I didn't really get to have a life, hell I didn't even get a childhood really. I am the youngest and literally the greenest out of all of us in every sense of the phrase. I can't let my mind wander right now. I would be putting my team, myself, even you at risk and I can't do that," she gave him one last glance before walking out of the room and heading downstairs.

Blaise punched the bed in frustration. She had just been through emotional hell with Hermione and he tried making a pass at her. How insensitive could he be! He tried letting what she had said roll off of him. Certainly she didn't mean what he thought she meant. She'd joined the Mambas right away, claiming she didn't have a childhood and that she was green in every sense of the phrase…no, certain she couldn't be a virgin! She was beautiful, exotic, and damn sexy as hell. Every sense of phrase; did that mean she had never done anything with a man? A kiss? A touch? Hell, he wasn't good a deciphering the female mind at all. She was concerned about hurting anyone around her, maybe she was to scared of getting close to anyone and that's why she'd never experienced any of the pleasures of romance and love.

A pang of jealousy erupted in him at the thought of any other man possibly even getting close enough o touch her, let alone kiss her or make love to her. Perhaps her being green was for the best after all, maybe it would help to keep his hormones in check around her, but maybe it would just make him more desperate to be near her. He would give her space so she wouldn't fear him, but dammit to hell, he wouldn't let any other man around her so long as he was around.

Draco wandered up the quiet street. He didn't know how he knew where she was, but between Jessa's frantic sketching and the tiny pull he felt in his abdomen, his feet led him to a community school with a small playground nestled in a grove of oak trees. He recognized the intricate iron fence it was encased in from Jessa sketch.

He walked through the gate and followed the walking path through the grounds. He passed the swings losing count of the laughing, smiling children. Their voices filled his ears and made them ring at their bliss. His feet pulled him past the jungle gyms and the merry-go-round, but he still hadn't seen Hermione. Maybe his instinct was wrong, maybe that pull was just nerves. He was about to turn around and head back up the path to the street when he saw feet sticking out behind a massive oak. He smiled to himself as her crossed the park to the heavily wooded area. He didn't know what kind of state he would find her in, but he knew she was sitting on the ground behind the tree furthest from the playground. A she approached her he saw her leaned against it, eyes closed.

He could picture her now in his mind, no not picture—feel her. Respecting her space he sat on the other side of the tree, hands on the ground smoothing them over the soft grass. In the shade it felt cool on his hands. He didn't realize how panicked he had been to find her, as he slowly let the grass calm him. "I was wondering if you'd be able to find me," she admitted quietly.

Draco knew better than to ask her how she was doing or if she was okay. Glancing over he caught a glimpse of her motorcycle and went with his gut. "Your bike is killer, I'm not gonna lie," he laughed. He heard her sigh and could almost feel her shoulders relax.

"Yeah, she's definitely my favorite out of all my toys by far," She replied. He could hear the slight smirk in her voice.

"Out of all your toys? Exactly how many do you have exactly? I know one of the girls mentioned it earlier that you brought all of them with you for some reason."

"Well I have Cass, or Cassiopeia over there, a Harley Sportster for a little more muscle named Nora, my Rubicon Pandora, my boat Vega, and a little two-seater name Nash. Believe it or not I have always had a thing for constellation names," she admitted.

His heart clenched. Certainly she wasn't flirting with him. Her tone of voice never changed to indicate it, but he couldn't contribute her openness to general conversation. "So where exactly are all these toys, because believe it or not, I have a thing for American motor trends," he asked in complete awe of this complex woman leaning against a tree.

"I secured a warehouse to store them in, it was a property my father used to own that I had purchased with my War money. It's been in my name for years and vacant. I am considering offering it to Harry for a bigger facility, or maybe turning it into a HQ for the Mambas. I would like to think I may want to stick around for a while, but we'll see."

"What do you mean? Do you not like New York?"

"No, I love the lights and the city, it just doesn't hold my interest like it used to. It's full of people but I still feel alone there. I still live in the house he was killed in, Lyra's nursery is still there, and no matter how much I try to I can't bring myself to change any of it. This was a huge step for me, coming here. I thought I would regret it, but he feels right to me, you know?"

He nodded, unsure of exactly what to say. He didn't know why, but the thought of her going back to New York filled him with panic and anxiety.

"I don't know if I can go back now that I am here. I may decide to move to Italy. Graham inherited his family estate there, and no technically it's mine. It's been three years, but I feel like I keep waiting to wake up and it be a dream."

"Yeah, you should do whatever you think you should do. Don't worry about anyone but you. Don't think of what they want of you," he said plucking blades of grass out of the soil.

"I gave it up you know…" she trailed off.

"What?"

"Magic. After Hogwarts and the war and the mess with Kingsley. I felt like I was expected to just marry a wizard and procreate the next generation of wizards who would work and be successful or little witches who would be gifted but never given the opportunity to flourish. I felt like it was all a waste of time and my abilities so I left for the States."

"But you ended up rejoining the magic community eventually?"

"Witches are viewed differently there. I didn't make it known, but I entered a special training there for two years and became and IMF agent stationed in Boston. A year later, Luna moved to the States and moved in with me. I still didn't get the rush I felt with it like I did at Hogwarts. So she backed me up, we locked my wand away, I joined the US military and was transferred to New York before I completed my two years of service. That where I met Graham."

"What happened? I mean he was a wizard, did you know when you met him?"

"I had no idea. He knew who I was though. He too, had given up all magic when his parents were killed during the war. He felt that magic was useless. What good is a gift like magic if you can't use it to protect those you love? We were married two weeks later. And then the killings started. Because of their magical signature, the IMF ambassador personally came and asked for our aid. We felt that maybe it was our opportunity to fight back and I joined the enhancement program and training with the others. We did a few missions for the first four months or so, then a month later I found out I was pregnant."

"Did you still do field work?"

"Oh, yes! If anything I had more energy and determination. I wanted to put an end to the cases so that I could enjoy my new family. We were called down to Florida on a new victim when I felt this crushing pain in my chest, like my heart was being torn in two. I told the girls my doctor wanted me to come home early so I left. That's when I found him." Draco just waited to see if she would continue. Not wanting to force it and scare her back into her shell.

"They put him in a garbage bag and put him on our bed. They stapled a note to it calling him Traitor Trash and filth for marrying mudblood scum. I couldn't even hold him or hug or kiss him goodbye. I couldn't even open the bag. I had the coroner show me a picture of his face to identify the body. Two weeks later I had a doctor's appointment. When I was leaving I remembered being grabbed and thrown in a car."

Draco didn't know why but he was finding it hard to breath, he was shaking so bad. He had grabbed handfuls of grass trying to anchor himself. He noticed the dirt building under his nails.

"I remember waking up in a filthy warehouse by the river. I couldn't feel pain, just the emptiness. I could smell the blood and hear the flies swarming me. I remember reaching down to my stomach to find it gone. They left me with my wand and everything! I managed to apparate myself to the wizard hospital close by somehow. I couldn't even sit up, I'm surprised I didn't splinch myself in half. They told me that I was going to make it but my baby was gone. When I asked to hold her, they just kept telling me I couldn't, she was gone."

He knew she had started crying then, hearing the catch in her voice, her throat hoarse. He felt a jolt when her felt her hand cover his wrist, looking down to see her holding onto him, white knuckled, nails biting into his flesh.

"A week later I got a delivery at home. They decided to deliver her to me in the post. They put my Lyra in a jar of formaldehyde. There was a little sticky note on the lid saying I could bury my animal spawn now. I buried her myself right by Graham's grave, used magic to make her a head stone, and volunteered myself for the extra enhancements the same day. I was selfish and didn't think about what I was doing or what it would do to my sisters. By time the six week program was over I had destroyed every last shred of the old me I had left, save my house."

"Well, I know Hermione Granger I still in there somewhere. When we find you, you're going to be the most amazing witch the world has ever seen," Draco offered her in comfort.

"We?" she asked him confused.

"Yes, we. I'm going to help you find you. But we aren't going to do it sitting on the ground. We need to get back to Number 12 and finish that damn meeting and you know it. No more running away."

"Okay, if you think it's possible I am willing to give it a try," she sighed getting to her feet. "Do you care to drive? I'm a little shaky still."

"You bet your leather clad ass I do! I thought you'd never ask!"


	5. Chapter 5

As they pulled up to the curb at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Draco couldn't help but notice how good she felt behind him, her chest pressed against his back, her arms snug around his waist, hand clutching the front of his shirt. He secretly wished she had sought her refuge further from headquarters so that the contact didn't have to end so soon. He sighed as she slung her leg over the bike and stood there just looking at him. He braved the possibility of rejection and met her gaze anyway. When she didn't pull her eyes away from his, he arched his eyebrow as if to question her.

"Don't get too comfy on her. Just because you're the first person I've let take her out besides me, doesn't mean we're going to be making a habit out of this" He could almost hear the hint of humor in her voice, a small twitch at the corner of her mouth. He wished she would just smile, or laugh, show some emotion, anything.

"She's just such a beautiful piece of work," he joked at her. He was referring to the bike, but his tone suggested he wasn't; just talking about the bike, but of the woman standing in front of him too.

"Come on lover boy. Let's get in there and finish the briefing. Jet lag is kicking my ass and I am ready for a shower."

They entered into headquarters to the sounds of laughter and catcalls. Confused, Hermione leaned against the doorframe of the sitting room and to her complete horror witnessed what they were whistling and laughing at. Plastered on the screen in a slide show were photos of the Black Mambas on some of their more "covert" operations. Draco came up beside her and seeing the pictures on the screen, felt a huge grin on his face.

"This was one of our first missions together. Jessa was just a baby, not even old enough to drink yet, but that didn't stop her," Claire squealed in delight, as Jessa sat there grinning widely trying to hold her blush. Blaise sat next to her, his jaw on the table in shock. "Hermione had convinced the IMF that maybe there would be a lead on a cruise ship headed to Jamaica trying to get out of the country under the radar. So naturally we all had to check it out. They didn't even know she had made the whole damn thing up! They even paid for it all! Haha!" She flipped through about fifteen images of the four women sitting on a deck by the pool in very tiny bikinis, sipping umbrella drinks. Draco noticed the look of shock on Blaise's face as he looked back and forth between Jessa and the photos. She just refused to even look at him, making Draco chuckle. _Oh, this could get interesting._ He thought about the obvious interest his best friend was showing in the little Southern Belle.

Draco noticed that Hermione had her long hair and was tattoo and piercing free. She and Luna was either copying each other or hugging one another in the photos. There were even a few of just the two of them together, that they had probably snapped themselves. How he longed to bring that beautiful smile back to her face.

"Ooh show the Amsterdam ones Claire!" Jessa yelled. Hermione's eyes went wide as she made a quick dash at her friends trying to stop them, knowing what everyone was going to see. The first shot surprised her, it was of all four of them on stage with instruments: Hermione, Luna, and Claire with guitars and Jessa with her drum set.

"You all were in a band?" Oliver asked Claire, seeing her with a guitar in the pictures, singing along with the others.

"Absolutely! And we were fabulous I'll have you know!" she laughed back. The next picture was of Hermione and Luna with their arms around a dark skinned man with dreadlocks. Hermione knew where these pictures were going very quickly, but before she could stop Claire from flipping through them, the room erupted in laughter. In the picture the mystery man was eating brownies with Hermione and Luna, and then to her horror, the picture changed to the one she feared the most. Loud wolf whistles erupted as a massive picture of Hermione and Luna making out filled the screen.

"Luna!" Hermione screamed. "You told me you deleted those." She tried to appear mad but her sisters knew her tone was mainly just her trying to cover up her embarrassment.

"Why would I get rid of them? You looked gorgeous there!" Draco couldn't have agreed with Luna more, even high as a kite on hash brownies, her face was full of laughter and joy.

"Well, I still stand by the fact that the baby of our group knew what hash brownies were and let me eat three of them before she explained it to me," she said pointing a stern finger at Jessa. Jessa just grinned back at her, with an innocent expression on her face.

"Hermione, you and Draco just need to sit down and watch these with us," Luna hollered across the room. "We can go back to being uber professional and cut throat in a little bit." Reluctantly Hermione found a seat, relieved when Draco pulled out the chair next to her.

She watched in silence as the others flipped through pictures of them in training courses, Jessa dozing off on her desk while Hermione took all the notes. Then some pictures of them on her boat in the Bayou in Louisiana, followed by them at Mardi Gras in full on party wear. The next few pictures were just of Jessa, Luna, and Claire, Hermione knew she had been the one to take them. More and more pictures of her three sisters passed the screen, their smiles getting wearier with each one, their eyes getting darker, their expressions more serious. The laughter around the room quieted down at the next picture. It was Hermione in a chair at a hair salon, her face sunken, thin as a rail, holding a ponytail of curls that the stylist had just sheared off.

The next photo was of the same night Hermione knew. Her three sisters shared a look of apprehension as Hermione laid on a table in a tattoo parlor still clutching her hair like a talisman while some burly man tattooed her chest. The next three brought shock to her as she saw Jessa get a snake to match on her neck, Claire one on her lower back, and Luna one on her thigh. All three girls looked nauseas and worried, but her stone face never changed. Some of the men in the room chuckled at the sight on Lunas bare legs while she sat for hers. All laughter died as the next photo crossed the screen. In it Hermione had been holding her ponytail of hair and had evidently set it on fire, her face twisted in anger.

Hermione's hand went instinctively to her short hair and bare neck, then to the tattoo over her heart. Her last three years had just been summed up into a slide show, she didn't like people seeing her like that, broken and desperate. She cleared her throat, "Ok ladies, one more set then we need to get back to work."

"Well if that's the case, I get to pick," Luna said excited tapping her chin. Her eyes got wide of an idea of what she wanted to see and she flicked her wand at the screen bringing up their arrival back to London. There were photos of Jessa and Claire wide eyed on top of a double decker bus, and a photo of Jessa playing with a Castle guard. A photo of Hermione in a large warehouse flashed across the screen. Draco knew that it was obviously the warehouse she had purchase for her toys. The last photo was of Hermione laying on her bike, in her leather gear while some sketchy guy had a piercing gun up to her lip. The looks on the faces of the other three girls was priceless. Luna and Claire had their faces wrinkled up in disgust, while Jessa literally had her finger in her mouth feigning gagging.

Hermione felt their eyes on her as she carelessly felt her new accessory with her tongue. Before she could do anything she felt the sets of arms pulling her up out of her chair. "Now look Hermione," Jessa started. "We are our own little family together. You are all this orphan Annie has in life. I would walk through fire for you, and to be honest I'm pretty sure I did in Russia once," she chuckled. "We would follow you to the ends of the Earth, Shave off all of our hair, and tattoo every last inch of our bodies for you. We will eat hash brownies and drink ourselves into oblivion with you, but I swear to God, if you do not take that damn disgusting hunk of metal out of your beautiful face, we will all take turns throttling you."

All four girls looked at each other, gauging Jessa brutal honesty, hesitating to see how receptive Hermione would be to it. They expected anger, tears, broken glass. What they didn't expect was for her to throw her head back in laughter. It was such a beautiful and welcome noise that they all just stared at her, while Jessa launched at her grabbing her into a hug, tears rolling down her face.

"You don't get to leave me again. You're the only family I have ever had, and I refused to be thrown away again," Jessa confessed between sobs. Hermione just held her littlest sister in her arms, silent tears running down her face.

Many of the Aurors just looked at each other in confusion, trying to figure out what had just happened, Draco just stared at Hermione, the sound of her laughter still echoing in his head. The two women broke apart as Hermione reached up and unscrewed the tiny stud.

"Luna, if you'd please," she asked her friend. Knowing exactly what was being requested of her, Luna place her index finger on the tiny hole and closed it.

"There, it's like it never happened," she smiled at Hermione. "I knew that was a god picture to pick. Now give me that disgusting thing!" she laughed taking the stud and turned it into dust.

As they all took their seats around the table, Hermione felt soothed having Draco next to her. Taking a deep breath she gently rested her hand on the back of his wrist, using him as her anchor again. She felt a strange tingling sensation in her left arm and looking down at her scar, could have sworn it rippled and got lighter.


	6. Chapter 6

The combined teams delved back into their files and records of all the victims going over causes of death, location, victim lifestyle, and social status. "We were able to utilize our talented Miss Jessa over here, and she was able to access FBI and CIA records and finally we found a link to all victims and it is a very strong correlation, and I still don't see how it took four years to uncover it," Hermione explained.

"Well, what is it?" Harry demanded sitting up in his chair.

"Not only were the victims not native to their countries of death, they were all English born which I explained earlier. But there's more, I promise. All victims were once registered witches and wizards at one time and all had defected from the magic world."

"How can that many people willingly give up their magic," demanded Ron. He seemed repulsed by the idea.

"Well, I think it's easier for those of us that had no knowledge of it growing up," Jessa offered. "Hermione gave it up for a few years, and I considered not even embracing my heritage and not taking on my magical abilities all together. I'm a pureblood witch evidently but because I was raised in the foster system, I never understood what was going on with me. I was a pariah to society and they wanted me gone. I would have given it up right away if I even knew where to start." Blaise stared at her in shock. Had she just said she was a pureblood witch that had no training?

"Guys, the point is that we have come to is that for one reason or other they have all defected from the same wizarding government. We've been on some bogus assignments, but our real ones have been spent ruling out every governing body in the wizarding world, aside from one,' Hermione interrupted.

"And which one is that?" Bill questioned.

"Yours."

At her blatant answer, the Aurors erupted in furious voices trying to disprove her. All Hermione could see were red faces and hands and fists waving in the air. The noise was deafening. She looked to her sisters and saw then trying to fight their side and defend their thoughts and actions. In fear for her sisters, Hermione began to feel the Black Mamba on her chest uncoil itself, rearing back to strike. The Mamba began taking over her body, her blood heating up and rushing through her limbs like venom to the heart of its prey. Her ears began ringing and she could see her change of view, knowing that her pupils had constricted back. She needed them to all shut up so she could anchor herself back down. She could feel the walls pulse. Could hear the wood of the table start to dry out and crack.

Next to her, Draco could feel Hermione's chair start to rattle. He heard her breathing become labored, cold see her eyes widen, her pupils constrict. He could feel her power radiating from her, like a huge burst of static electricity. Hermione stealthily rose from her seat, her shoulders hunched, ready to go in for the kill strike.

"SILENCE!" she yelled as her fist came down on the monstrous wooden table. All around her glasses shattered, empty chairs overturned, all of the doors throughout the house had flung shut on their hinges. The room grew immediately silent in her wake. "SIT DOWN ALL OF YOU AND LISTEN!" She saw Ron start to argue, but no noise came out of his mouth.

"I said sit down, Ron," She corrected him again. "Now I need to tell you all what we plan to do." She began to walk around the circle of brethren twisting her hands as she thought of the best way to explain her motives.

"The British Ministry is our last possible suspect for many reasons. One being that all the victims were born and registered here; two being the lack of support from Kingsley during our three and a half years of chasing white whales; three being the fact that there are over thirty dedicated Aurors at the Ministry and apart from the eight in this room they have been with Kingsley since all of this began. The Ministry is hosting a gala for its employees and the four of us will be going in to find out what we can. We may need a few of you there to back us up just in case. However, I think it a smart idea that everyone attend as normal. I am worried that if you all don't pretend to play along with the Ministry then our cover will be blown. I feel like Kingsley thinks the Mambas were getting to close to finding out the truth and that's why he was so willing to get us here, to eliminate us."

At the concerned looks of the Aurors, she held up her hand. "The four of us came here knowing this could be a suicide mission for all of us. We are here in spite of all of this and won't tolerate you all trying to lessen our concerns. That would just be a recipe for disaster and a key to death's door for us. I think that the Minister is aware that we are convening here and that the longer we stay here, the easier we are making it for them to take us out. I have purchased warehouse in town and we are going to be moving there tomorrow morning. You all are more than welcome to set up shop there, seeing as I now owe you all a new table. But nobody other than the eight in this room will be able to access it. I won't allow any other Aurors to decide they've had a change of heart that's too risky for us. Now, are there any questions?" A few opened their mouths to speak, but Hermione just clicked her tongue at them. 'Oh darn, nobody has anything to say. It's like a viper has your tongues," she smirked waltzing out of the room, not catching the looks of concern that they all had for her. Clearly she hadn't noticed what they had.

As soon as she left the room, her trance was over, and everyone saw the furniture right itself, and heard all the doors open again. Draco was the first to try to speak. "So how long do you think it'll take her to notice her hair?" Looking around the table her connected glares with the other three women who were all smiling.

"We knew it would happen soon enough. She cut it three years ago and it hasn't grown an inch since. Our trainers said that she would heal only once she allowed herself to," Luna explained.

"Her scar on her arm faded when she laughed again after taking that monstrosity out of her face," Jessa interrupted. "I could feel it through our connection, but didn't want to say anything and risk scaring her back in to a corner."

"I guess I had better go check on her, shouldn't I?" Draco asked them. None of them looked at him, just nodded silently and they were all deep in thought. AS he headed out of the room, Blaise walked over to Jessa.

Laying his hand on her shoulder, he turned her to face him. "You want to go for a walk?' he asked. At her wide-eyed nod, he place his hand on her elbow and led her outside.

"I'm starving," he confessed with a chuckle. "When's the last time you had anything to eat?"

"A real meal? Probably Tuesday," she confessed.

"Um, you do know that it's Friday right?" he asked shocked at her confession.

"Yeah, I don't eat much, I am more of a grazer or snacker. But I feel like I could eat a horse right now," she laughed at his wide-eyed appearance.

"Well it is your lucky day. There is a café just a couple blocks from here. Don't argue," he fussed seeing her begin to argue with him. "My treat."

They walked in silence most of the way to the café. She kept stealing little glances at Blaise, taking in how ruggedly handsome he was. His steps were so quiet and confident that she knew he was trained for more covert investigations. His muscled arms, tapered into gorgeous artist hands, a big contrast to his rugged appearance. His dark V-neck t-shirt was pulled across his lean frame. He had a beautiful athletic build, always her preference over an overly bulked hulk of a man. A light dusting of hairs peeked out from the collar of his shirt. He laughed to herself, he was by far the sexiest man she'd ever been around.

She refused to get close to anyone, giving how often they moved from one site to the other for work. Growing up the way she did, she was used to being unattached; it kept her grounded and safe, but also came with an unhealthy dose of lonely. She would never openly admit that she had second thoughts about her choice of lifestyle to her sisters, in fear of their reaction, but deep down she secretly wished that when Hermione had gotten pregnant with Lyra, they would have disbanded like she thought they would have. At twenty-two she knew she had plenty of years ahead of her to fall in love and start a family, she just had hopes of being swept of her feet and carted away like every other young girl.

She felt his hand reach for hers, an allowed him to bring her knuckles up to her mouth, kissing them. She let her sights linger on his face, taking in his strong bone structure, his dark facial features. He had the most deliciously chiseled jaw line, dusted with a days' worth of scruff. Instead of making him look lazy or messy, it made him look wild, especially paired with his dark wavy hair. She was so busy admiring him that she didn't realize he had stopped walking to stare down at her. He held her gaze, daring her to break away. She felt him release her hand, and she felt a desperate need to have it back. She almost grabbed his hand back when he reached both hands up to cup her face and leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

"How dare you come into my life, planning to charge into some suicide mission," He whispered against her smooth skin. She could hear the anguish in his voice at the thought of her willing to die to solve this case. "You said it yourself…you haven't even lived yet. So I forbid, you from getting yourself killed, do you understand?" he demanded.

All she could do was just nod at him. She wasn't able to form a coherent sentence. By time she was able to think straight, a desperate confession rolled out, "Did you ever stop to think that maybe I wasn't planning on this happening," she pleaded placing her hand against his chest. "Forty-eight hours ago I was perfectly willing to die for the only family I have ever known. That's what we do, we get in, get out, and hopefully come back in one piece. I have been here with you for like eight hours tops, and I can't even think straight. All I want to do is be with you. I don't feel alone and scared with you, and that is huge for me."

She could hear his breath catch and his arms pull her to his chest, embracing her. Her hands fisted in his shirt, like a lifeline. She couldn't bring herself to let him go. "I refuse to rush you into anything, especially since you openly confessed to me you don't have much experience in all of this. I don't know how long you all will be here for, and I don't know how much quality time I will get to spend with you, just the two of us. I plan to savor every minute of this as long as I can. I have no intentions of letting you go back across the big pond, as you so amusingly called it, and I'll be damned if you are going to go into some mission trying to get killed. Now we are going to go get some real food and you are going to explain to me why a pureblood witch had to grow up Orphan Annie style." All she could do was laugh at his sincerity as her pulled her against him and led her the rest of the way to the local café.

Draco headed up the hallway to Hermione's guest room. As he reached for the doorknob, he could feel the room pulsing inside, Instead of knocking, he rushed in to find her in the middle of the floor, with her knees tucked into her chest, her hands wound in her long curls. "Hermione…" he hesitated, he didn't want her to get frightened if he snuck up on her. All she did was look up at him, straight in the eyes, tears flowing down her face.

"Oh, Hermione…" he said worried as he walked over to her. He sat in front of her and reached up to pull one of her hands out of her hair. I talked with Luna and the others, they said that you had a trainer that told you something like this would happen."

"Yes, exactly. Something like this, but I wasn't expecting _all_ of this!" she cried clenching her long waves. "First I thought my arm had started to fade, and out of nowhere, I turned into Hagrid!"

"Oh, come on," he chuckled. "I think you are being a little over the top. Now, your hair in school could have given him a run for his money, but this is much different," he explained pulling a soft curl between his fingers. "It's beautiful."

"I just got so used to the fact that I was stuck looking like a stupid fairy forever that I gave up on it. I missed it so much, but it really is too long. Maybe I should cut…"

"No! Don't you dare!" At her shocked expression at his outburst, he calmly added, "I missed this part of you. Not that the short biker-do wasn't hot as hell on you. It's just that this, is much better. Much tougher than biker Hermione."'''

She could feel a blush come up her face. Where the hell were these wayward feeling coming from? She hadn't had these emotions since Graham and Lyra, and she had gotten used to being an empty hull of a person. Instead of questioning herself anymore, she shocked them both and threw her arms around him and hugged him.

Draco couldn't imagine a more beautiful sight to behold than his wild amazon woman in front of him. _Wait…his amazon woman? Jesus Draco, get your shit together! She's not into you like that! Then why the hell is she hugging me? Wait…if she's hugging me then why the hell am I not hugging her back?_ He let his arms wrap around her waist and pulled her into the embrace. His head rested on top of her soft waves as she buried her face in his neck, breathing him in.


	7. Chapter 7

Blaise sat staring at the Southern Belle in front of him, entranced as she flittered between topics like she'd flip through a magazine. He watched her douse a bottle of red sauce on just about everything except her dinner roll. Apparently she carries a shrunken bottle of it in her pocket everywhere she goes "Just in case" as she put it. He could tell she was avoiding his request to hear about her upbringing by rambling on about how different food was in the States versus here, and how she'd never be able to figure out the different terminology when it came to going to the bathroom. He knew she was fixing to start on about some other off-the-wall topic when he took the opportunity to cut in.

"So how long did you live in an orphanage?"

"Oh, um, a while, I guess…" she said picking at her dinner roll.

"You guess a while? How long is a while?"

"Oh good grief you aren't gonna forget about this are you?" at the shake of his head she gave in. "Well fine then. If you must know, I think I was maybe four years old when my parents and I came to the States. According to what little records I could get from encrypted files, they had been considering relocating there from I don't know where. I couldn't find any record of them living anywhere else. They died in a fire at the hotel we were staying at. Since the government had no record of where I came from, I was put temporarily in the foster system. Everybody wants cute little kids, but when I would get upset the lights would blow, transformers would surge. Every family I went to was scared if me. One family even went as far as getting a priest to try and exorcise demons out of me. I had been in twelve homes before my twelfth birthday, she trailed off."

"Then what happened?"

"I went into a girl's group home on my twelfth birthday, sounds fabulous I know! But the woman who ran it tried her own methods on me trying to rid me of my "disability" as she called it. She would dunk my head in a metal tub of water until I had convinced her that she had rid me of my gifts. She would starve me to the point I was too weak to use magic. Of course I didn't know it was magic then, I just thought I was losing my mind. I was walking home from the store one night, she had sent me to get bread. I remember thinking how hungry I was as I was walking through the store. And when I got outside the police were there to arrest me for shoplifting. I didn't even know what shoplifting meant. I had no clue how the crackers got into my coat pocket. They of course didn't believe me and I was sentenced to a year in a juvenile detention center."

Blaise couldn't imagine the beautiful woman in front of him as a child, half-starved being hauled off to some facility and put behind bars. He felt he suddenly had no appetite. He understood why she said she never really eats big meals, just grazes. She was starved for food majority of her childhood, not knowing where her next meal would come from.

"Anyway, when they hauled me into the detention center evidently I had some sort of break down and managed to electrocute one of the guards, so I spent my entire year in solitary confinement. They would come in once a week to hose out my cell and scrub me down. They shaved off all of my hair to get rid of the mites I had gotten from the conditions I was staying in. I kept track of my year by making little splices in the wall with my nails. I counted down to my last day there, which was the only thing that kept me alive. Then that day came, and nobody got me out, and another day, and another. By time they had found me it had been six weeks and I was so emaciated they sent me to a local hospital for nutrition purposes. I stayed in critical care for three months, my body had healed but they said my mind had been too traumatized. All I keep talking about was my Gran being a cat and that she would come get me. She would find me. They decided I needed more help they what they could offer and had me transferred from Texas to a State mental health facility in New York. They tried everything they could for years, pills, therapy sessions, more solitary confinement, nothing seemed to work. Finally on my sixteenth birthday they thought they'd surprise me with a few rounds of electroshock therapy. Big mistake. I lit up like a Christmas tree just like they wanted me to, but what they didn't expect was for all of the dormant magical electrical energy in me to meet a catalyst. It was like jump starting a car. I killed five people that day."

Blaise had noticed she didn't cry, her voice never faltered. She just stared at a glass sugar shaker with a far off look on her face. He didn't dare touch her, not wanting to break whatever focus she had. He needed to hear the rest of it.

"Anyway, nobody could explain what had happened. The local authorities shut the facility down due to the electrical not being up to code or something or another and I was turned over to the IMF. Evidently they had been monitoring me for years and couldn't track me down to one spot long enough to get me into a proper education program like every other eleven year old witch or wizard. They utilized my heightened abilities, enrolling me in an accelerated program. I did seven years of education in less than two, which mind you was hard enough seeing as all the magic I had ever done was wandless. I still can't use a wand to save my life," she laughed. "My body feeds off other energies in the area. So as long as I'm not in a dark cave somewhere, I can use magic. On my eighteenth birthday I met Luna, Claire, and Hermione. They'd been recruited in for the Mamba program and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to be with the same people for years. It was the first and only family I had had in fourteen years. And of course, you know the rest."

Blaise just sat staring at her. She acted so nonchalant about the whole things. She brushed it off like it was not a huge deal. Bloody hell, he was livid that anyone would put his girl through all that. _His girl_, he laughed at himself. _I kind of like the sound of that._

"Look, Blaise. I can see by the look on your face what you think of me. I'm a murder and I know it. I understand if you're having second thoughts about all of this. I can find my way back to headquarters. Thank you for dinner." She stood up and walked out the door, the bell dinging behind her.

The sound of the bell caught his attention. "Wait…what?" he said out loud. Throwing money down on the table he bolted out the door after her. He could see her already almost a block ahead of him. _Damn, she's fast_, he thought. _Must be having to run from once place to another all the time. _

"Jessa! Jessa, wait!" he hollered after her, running as fast as his legs would carry him. Bloody hell if she didn't keep on walking. He had to catch up with her. It was dark enough that nobody would notice him. He pulled out his wand and apparated himself around the corner right in front of her.

"Blaise! What the hell? Someone could have seen you! Are you insane?"

"You…wouldn't…stop," he panted leaning forward with his hands on his knees.

"Blaise, this is pointless, I know what you're thinking. I get it, it's no big deal. We can forget all about this mess and just pretend it didn't happen at all."

"Shut up you stupid woman," he breathed standing up.

"What did you just say to me? I am not stupid! I may not have had parents that paid for some fancy wizard boarding school, like all of you, but I assure you I-"He pushed her against the brick wall of the building and crashed his mouth down on hers. At first her eyes grew wide in shock and her hands went up in defense at his roughness with her, then she relaxed and pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. He angled his head more, placing small kisses along her jaw, then brought his mouth back to hers. Jessa moaned into his lips, nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth. At the sound of his moan, she opened her mouth, letting his tongue explore hers. Her hands dropped to his waist, shaking, she grabbed the front of his shirt and bunched it in her fist, her nails grazing bare flesh on his stomach.

"Ah young love!" she heard a little voice say pulling her out of her reverie. Pulling her mouth away from Blaise's she looked over to see a little old lady with a bag of groceries watching them.

She flashed a quick smile at the woman, and said, "I'm so sorry ma'am, is this your house?" looking up at the numbers above her head.

"Why yes, but that's perfectly fine dearie. That right there is the most action this house has seen in forty years!"

"Well then! We'll just be going on then!" Blaise yelped trying to cover his laughter. Pulling Jessa away from the wall, he tugged her down the sidewalk towards Grimmauld Place.

"Oh my gosh! Voyeuristic old bitty!" she laughed.

"Well at least now I know you are okay with a little PDA every now and then," he teased her.

Draco relished in the feel of Hermione's body against his. He pulled her in closer bringing her into his lap, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her, running his hands through her silky curls. He remembered how bushy her curls had been that first year at Hogwart's and grinned into her neck. The frizzy curls had matured into thick waves, curling down her back. Her newly grown hair was a contrast to the blonde streaked cut she's had only minutes before. Her sun-kissed chestnut curls shone with warmth, like a perfectly aged glass of brandy. He never knew how much he could miss something so simple.

Since their final year at Hogwart's they clearly all had shit to work out, skeletons in their closets. Draco was well aware that his life would never go back to the way it was. His father was taken to Azkaban to serve a ten year sentence for his activity in the war. His mother, was pardoned by the ministry thanks to the testimonies of Harry Potter himself. His father thankfully would be returning home in less than two years, possibly sooner thanks to good behavior. He knew his mother was slowly deteriorating due to his absence. He never pretended to understand their relationship, they were never overly affectionate people, but deep down he knew they loved each other, they loved him in some twisted way.

At his mother's blessing he left Malfoy Manor immediately following the war and stayed with Potter at Grimmauld Place. He had always intended to buy his own place and settle down, but always felt that something was missing and could never bring himself to follow through on the idea. Harry had married Ginny Weasley immediately following the war, and encouraged her to this day to pursue her wildest dreams. She was still actively playing professional quidditch, getting traded each year to some new and upcoming team. Draco knew they had talked about her retiring soon and them starting a family, but when the Ministry was plagued with the newest set of cases, their plans were put back on the shelf. They were joined months later by Ron coming to live there, now he knew it must have been after Hermione took off. He and Ron had never been friendly enough to discuss personal issues, but looked past old childhood differences to work together.

Draco secretly felt that all of the younger Aurors: Neville, Dean, Oliver, Ron, even Blaise, wanted out of their hectic lives, wanted stability and a life not surrounded by chaos and death. They all knew what they had signed up for originally, but all felt the Ministry had become twisted into something less reputable and more secretive and dark. He applauded Hermione for starting over, or at least trying to. One thing for certain was that she obviously wouldn't give up trying to get past everything, she still had a small flame inside of her, a small glimmer of that Gryffindor courage, whether she knew it or not.

Draco didn't know how long he sat there holding her, clinging to her hair like his life depended on it. All he knew was that her tantrum downstairs, brought back that flame of hope to him after all this time, and he would do everything it took to keep it as long as he could. He felt her head droop into his chest more, followed by her deep breathing, and he knew she had drifted into her sweet slumber. _Way to go you idiot! Now how the hell am I going to get up?! _ He scolded himself, but couldn't help but relish at the idea she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in his arms. Rocking forward gently he managed to get up on his knees, cradling her in his arms. Bringing himself up to his feet, careful not to jostle her too much, he gently laid her down on the bed. He regretfully, pulled her arms out from behind his neck and pulled the comforter over her. He debated on helping her into more comfortable clothing, but decided she'd probably beat his ass if he tried. Grinning to himself he made to turn and leave the room when he felt her small hand latch onto his wrist. He turned back to her, her dark eyes taking him in.

"Stay with me," she whispered. He wasn't sure if he had heard her correctly or not. It was until she whispered a small and desperate, "please," that his jaw relaxed and he gave her a small nod. He walked around the bed and took a seat at the edge. He untied his boots and took off his belt. He debated on taking his cargo pants off, but decided if she could sleep in leather, he could bear it for one night.

He didn't dare get under the covers, just laid on top of the comforter on his back, as far on the edge of the bed he could. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable. She reached up and clicked the bedside lamp off, leaving them in darkness. The silence was deafening, the only sounds in the room coming from the ceiling fan whirling overhead. He listened for her breathing to shallow out, and when it didn't come he knew she was still awake. He felt the bed shift as he heard her roll over onto her stomach. He prayed that one of them could relax enough to fall asleep soon, he felt awkward, wanting to inch closer to her, but not daring to invade her space. He didn't want to frighten her, she'd had enough to deal with today, without him making it worse for her. His thoughts left his mind completely as he felt her hand grasp his, linking her fingers through his. He gulped, his throat feeling dry and tight, his heart thumping frantically against his chest. He inched a little closer to her and pulled her hand up to his chest over his heart. He could tell by her slowed breathing that she had fallen asleep, clinging to his hand like he'd clung to her hair.

Draco woke the next morning to an empty bed. Confused, he glanced at his watch to check the time realizing that it was almost ten. He very rarely got four hours of sleep a night, and he hadn't slept past six a.m. since he was in Hogwart's. He smiled to himself, knowing it probably had something to do with Hermione. He looked back over to the side of the bed she had laid in; it was perfectly made, appeared untouched, like she had never even been there at all. Panicked, he glanced around the room looking for any sign of her. There was none. Her duffel bag was gone, the bathroom cleaned, linens stacked back on a shelf. _No way could all of his been a dream!_ He threw his boots back on, lacing them up with his wand and ran down the stairs.

He barreled through the kitchen door to find Potter sitting at the wooden table nursing a steaming cup of coffee. Harry's eyebrow shot up in surprise at Draco's appearance. "You okay Malfoy?" he smirked.

"Honestly I don't know," he managed to wheeze out, catching his breath. Then he heard a feminine laugh coming from the other room. Leaving an amused Harry sitting in the same spot he found him, he hurried down the hall in the direction of the laughter. He breathed a sigh of relief when he caught Jessa and Blaise lounging on one of the sofa's laughing at each other about some secret joke. His eyes scanned the room and he found Luna packing the case files into a crate.

"Are you okay Draco?" Luna asked without even looking up at him.

"Yeah. Um, where is Hermione?"

"Oh, she left hours ago!" Jessa chimed in looking over the back of the couch.

"Left?" he questioned, feeling the panic rise in his chest again. He knew he went too far last night. He drove her away. God, he was so stupid!

"Yeah man," Blaise responded. Wood followed her and Claire to that Warehouse of hers so they could get some help setting it up. We were fixing to come wake you up. We are all heading over in a little bit."

"Oh. Okay then. Um, I'll just…um, I'll go get ready and meet you all back down here in a few." He left the room and leaned against the wall in the hallway, trying to catch his breath. He was relieved knowing that she hadn't disappeared, even more relieved knowing it wasn't all just some twisted dream.

Minutes later he found himself stepping out of a steaming shower and toweling off. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror he took himself in. Being an Auror had been rough on him, physically damaging even. He glanced at many of the scars that marred his skin, faded some by magic, but not completely gone. He saw the faded dark mark he had on the inside of his forearm. After Voldemort's death, all of the Dark Marks had faded to the point of being almost completely gone; it looked more like an ominous birth mark rather than an enchanted tattoo.

Everyone knew that he had never really committed any dark acts under Voldemort, and they all knew he had fought his ass off to prove himself, his determination getting him the majority of the scars over the rest of his body. He knew he had nothing more to prove, nothing to be ashamed of. He knew Hermione's scars made his look like paper cuts, but he still couldn't help but feel like he was unworthy of her. She had been through literally hell and back throughout the last fifteen years of her life, seven years of it in his presence even, him doing some of the damage. His hand reached up to touch a small scar across the bridge of his nose and he thought fondly back to her punching him in third year, breaking the skin with her fist. He had refused to let Madame Pomfrey heal it, and wore it with pride. After getting the Gryffindor Princess' feathers ruffled, he made it his mission to keep her on edge, he had always like her more that way. Wild eyed and crazy.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts. "Malfoy, we need to get going soon," he heard Luna mumbled through the wood.

"Okay I'll be down in a few minutes," he replied going to the closet to pull out jeans and a navy t-shirt. Normally he would just wear his gear, but after sleeping all night in it, he preferred to be more comfortable, especially if they were going to be spending the day setting up a new headquarter for the Mambas.

Draco rode in silence in the front seat of the Rubicon with Luna. Blaise and Jessa had taken the back seat and sat whispering to each other. Normally Draco would have taken it upon himself to mock Blaise for acting like a teenage boy, but felt it best to not start anything, seeing as how he was sure that he was the same way around Hermione, even if she seemed like a stone wall to everyone else around. Luna hummed along with the radio and he couldn't help but admire how she managed to match the tune perfectly.

"Do you think Claire managed to pack up _everything_?" Jessa leaned forward and asked in Luna's ear.

"I certainly hope so. It would sure be a shame to have come all this way, Hermione have made the progress she has, and not have _everything_," she grinned back.

Draco turned and looked to Blaise confused at the cryptic conversation that had transpired between the women. Blaise just shrugged his shoulders. Draco couldn't help but notice how his best friend's eyes never left Jessa for more than a few minutes, and how he always managed to keep a hand on her at all times. Right now it was twirling in her long ponytail. Draco hadn't seen Blaise this at ease in years and hoped that maybe this new found interest wouldn't hurt his friend. Blaise had always been more reclusive, even during their school years. He was friendly, but only to select few. Many thought him as more stuck up than Draco, when Draco really knew it was just his defense mechanism. You can't get hurt during a war if you don't get close to people to begin with.

"Oh my God! Is that it?!'' Jessa squealed excited pointing up the street. Draco followed her finger and Luna's nod and was just as shocked as the young Mamba. "When she said a warehouse, I dunno, I was kinda thinking of rats and dirt, ya know?" she drawled with her southern accent.

"Oh you know, Hermione," Luna laughed. "She is always full of surprises, even more full of deep, dark secrets,'' she trailed off. Draco couldn't help but think she had aimed that last statement towards him in a sort of warning.

The "warehouse" as everyone had called it was an ornate three-story building nestled in a historic district of town. The dark brick was a huge contrast to the arching windows trimmed in white, and the wooden double door on front, the red paint of it like a beacon in the night. _Perhaps she did that on purpose_ he mused. The building itself blended in perfectly with the other buildings and homes surrounding it, but that damn red door stood out like a sore thumb. If they were ever lost, it would definitely be a landmark to help guide them.

The slowed and rounded the building to a loading bay in the back. Luna waved her wand and a large wooden door opened, allowing them to drive into the building, leaving the area around the property vacant, and the crew secure. As they pulled in and the large bay door shut behind them, Draco could feel the wards shift back into place; they pulled into an empty spot on the first floor. As they all clambered out of the truck, Draco and Blaise both shared appreciative stares at the beauty before them. The entire first floor of the warehouse was an elaborate showroom of some of the most beautiful automobiles Draco had ever seen in person.

All of Hermione's toys seemed to be nestled in one section, all but her Rubicon and street bike covered by tarps with the Black Mamba logo on them. The rest of the building played host to several antique cars, including a sleek black Rolls Royce and a dark gray Jaguar. There were several vintage motorcycles, and even a few vintage American muscle cars. Draco wandered over to a wall that hosted a case of auto show trophies and recognized the name on them, _Dr. Richard Granger_. This must have been her dad's collection.

"They are probably all upstairs. Jessa! Get a grip on yourself!" Luna laughed, drawing everyone out of there awestruck state. He looked over to see Jessa hugging a cherry red Mustang.

"But, Luna!" she whined, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout, "They're just so pretty!" Blaise walked over to her chuckling and pulled her away from the car.

"Okay, love, that's enough. You keep stroking that car like that, and I'm gonna be a jealous man."

"Well you know," she purred seductively to Blaise, "I do have a thing for Italian Muscle cars too." Blaise gulped and Draco laughed as she teased him by stroking a finger down his arm.

"Break it up you too, you'll end up ruining my lunch at this rate," Luna scolded.

They headed up the metal stairs to the second level, and Draco noticed Blaise fall back and adjust his pants. He grinned to his friend and wiggled his eyebrows at his discomfort. Neither of them said anything about it in the end. It was probably best, because they knew things would only get worse the longer the Mambas were around. They walked into a vast living space that had been split in two. The entire floor was wall-to-wall dark cherry floors that were waxed until shining. One half of the space was a fitness space, with weight benches, treadmills, a kettle bell and free weight rack, even a small padded sparring space that was roped off. The other half had a kitchen and living space. The kitchen had lightly stained wood cabinets and dark marble counters, a major contrast to the floors. The large wooden table could have sat twelve or more people, perfect for friendly get togethers. Apparently Claire and Oliver were in deep conversation about where to place the living room furniture when they walked in because Claire stopped talking immediately and ran to Jessa and Luna frantic.

"She'll be down in a few minutes. I need you to help me set it up!" she said in a panic.

"Okay, okay calm down C," Jessa laughed at her friend.

"Don't tell me to calm down Jessa. You know I'm not could at those shrinking charms and she would kill me if I damaged and of it especially the Steinway."

"Okay, let's just take a look at it," Luna said soothingly.

They laid a large wooden crate in the middle of the open space next to the living room. Draco watched curiously as they pulled out three child size guitars and a child-size baby grand piano.

"You all were worried about tearing up a bunch of toys?" Blaise interrupted.

"These are toys you fool. These are what's left of our sanity," Claire explained as she said an incantation over the guitars and expanded them to their actual size. Luna procured stands for them and four sets of microphones and stands and an amp. "Now here's the tricky part. I won't be able to live it down if I destroy the Steinway," she pouted.

"I'll do it." With a flick of her wrist, Luna transformed the tiny baby grand into a full-sized black, Steinway and Sons baby grand piano.

"Hey, what about my kit?" Jessa yelled running over to shake the crate. The room was met with the distant sound of symbols crashing. "Oh, never mind. Found it," Jessa laughed pulling out miniature pieces of an elaborate drum set.

Oliver, Draco, and Blaise sat back on the sofas and watched in amusement as the three women frantically arranged their little music set-up.

"What's going on? I thought I heard a…" Hermione said wandering down the stairs. She trailed off as she caught her sisters with the instruments. Given the look of shear anger on her face, it was apparent to the Aurors that the Mambas had committed high treason. "You all had no right to bring any of this! I told you I can't do it anymore. You know I can't control it!"

"Hermione, we just brought it just in case. We had a feeling that you'd be better here than you have been and maybe now that you have the Black Mamba under control more, you'll be able…" Claire tried to explain.

"No! It's too dangerous and you know it! People could have died last time!"

"What's going on?" Draco interrupted confused.

"I'll tell you what's going on. When they did the additional alterations to my magical makeup, those stupid idiots gave me an arsenal of internal weapons and no fucking instruction manual to help me use them. We _used_ to be able to sing and play, but along with my fucked-up eyes, they gave me an even more fucked-up voice. I haven't been able to perform ever since. You would think that my _sisters_ over here would get that by now and learn to respect my wishes! I'm a fucking failed experiment and it's about damn time you all understand that I will never get better!"

"Hermione, we were just hoping…"Jessa pleaded with her.

"No. I'm done. Stop hoping for me. Look!" she yelled pulling out chunks of hair that had started falling out. "I'm already falling apart again. The snake is shedding it skin. Is this what you all wanted?!"

Draco watched as her hair started falling to the ground and as her hair went back to the blonde pixie cut it was just the day before. He watched as her arm started to bubble and blood started dripping from her scar. Her breath came out ragged from her lungs and her body started to become drenched in sweat. She started to back away from them and head up the stairs as Claire ran after her and grabbed her by the arm.

Before anyone could stop her, she had Hermione pinned against the wall by the throat. Hermione clawed at Claire trying to break her grip. Draco and Oliver went to stop her, when Luna stopped them. "They need this. As long as Hermione listens, Claire won't kill her. She has more control than any of us."

"Now listen here you spoiled ass bitch! We all know you are beyond fucked up, but news flash you fool…we are all majorly fucked up. Yes your husband and baby are dead, but you know what, so is Jessa's family. She was locked away for years and still has been able to be a human being. Luna had her entire childhood stripped from her by some freak of a man and was left for dead and she still shows more love and compassion than anyone around. And me…I watched as my sister threw herself in front of that goddamned bus trying to save me. I watched as…as…she laid there…and I held onto her until…"Claire's voice finally cracked and her hand loosened on Hermione's neck.

"Claire," Hermione gasped out touching her sister's face. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are. And that's why I am here. No matter all the shit you have put us through, we love you. You know how our story goes, you are supposed to be the loving one, the bleeding heart. I'm supposed to be mother freaking nature, hormonal as hell. Luna is our lifeline, picking up our pieces and healing us, and Jessa is our energy, she keeps us going. But none of that matters if we don't have our heart. If our heart breaks, we all die. So please, I am begging you…get your shit together. Pick up the damn guitar and just try, for once."

"Give me some more time and I will try, I promise," Hermione whispered back, tears rolling down her face, her hair falling down to the floor around her feet. "I just need a little more time."

"All we have is time you idiot. As long as you don't slither into some damn hole, we can give you time. But without you, you will get us killed. So clean your damn hair up, and get yourself put back together. We have company." She spat back at her, letting go of her completely and letting her run back up the stairs.

Claire stood there staring at the wall where moments before, Hermione's face was. Before anyone could stop her, she grabbed a glass vase that was on the table next to her and threw it across the room, shattering it on the hard floor. As if she had opened the flood gates, she grabbed the next thing she could find, a picture frame and threw it. She then picked up the end table and threw it, breaking one of the legs off. When there was nothing left to throw she looked at her remaining sisters, tears streaming down her face. Neither of them said anything. Jessa just grabbed a box marked 'dishes' and opened it.

"I told you these damn things were hideous," Jessa explained with a small smile, handing a salad plate over to her. Claire took it and threw it at the wall. Everyone watched as she emptied the box, raining shards of glass and porcelain everywhere. When the box was empty she quietly walked downstairs and they all heard the front door open and slam shut. Nobody said anything about what had happened. Oliver was the first one to even move. He walked to the kitchen closet and pulled out a broom and dust pan and started sweeping the glass and hair up.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco didn't know where he was going. He headed up the winding metal staircase to the third level of the warehouse. The Landing opened up into a large sitting room lined with racks of combat gear and some sort of assortment of costumes. He didn't even venture to guess what some of the more risqué costumes had been used for. The remaining space had been split into four pieces, each had a door. He assumed that these were their individual rooms. All doors were open but one. He vaguely heard the sound of a shower running and decided to open the door slowly.

Hermione's room was by-far the biggest surprise of all. He expected it to be as warm as the rest of the warehouse. Perhaps she just hadn't gotten to work on it yet, he mused. He saw several boxes in one corner. There was a large king size bed in the middle made of dark cherry, covered in a colorful quilt. Her dresser matched and had very little adorning its surface, just a picture of the four Mambas, the cruise ship picture he had seen the day before. The only things that truly represented the Hermione he once knew was the floor to ceiling bookshelf full of colorful bound books. He smile to himself. Surely if she brought her collection with her, she was considering staying awhile. He was cut out of his happy thoughts by the sound of the most heart wrenching crying he's ever heard. It sounded like someone was being ripped in two. He slowly opened the bathroom door and his heart about broke at the sight of the woman in front of him.

She was sitting in the bottom of the tub, fully clothed, with water pouring over her, holding pieces of her hair that had fallen out. Her shoulders were jerking at the soundless sobs that were coming from her body. He didn't know what to do. He simply removed his shoes and reached in to turn the warm water on, hers had either become ice cold or she chose to drown herself in the coldness. He scooted her forward closer to the warm weather and slipped into the tub behind her, drawing her into his chest. His arms wrapped around her legs and curled her into him, trying to catch onto her shaking body and get her under control. He held her until her tears stopped and she wiggled her hand out to shut the stream of water off. His grip on her loosened and she pushed up using his knees and stood and exited the tub. He thought she was leaving him there until she reached her hand out to help him out of the tub to.

His knees were stiff from sitting so long in one position and he slipped a little getting out, but of course she was there to steady him, just as he had been there for her. They stood there staring into each other's eyes, both dripping in water, drenched to the core. He simply reached forward and cupped her face in his hands. He could see her holding her breath and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Breathe," he instructed. She sighed into his touch and he pulled back to look at her again. He watched as she licked the water from her lips and taking it as an invitation pulled her into a kiss.

She felt his mouth on hers, applying pressure, sweetly at first, then more intense and demanding. Her arms wrapped around her neck as she pulled him closer, opening her mouth slightly to welcome his. She heard his growl in the back of his throat as she ran her nails through his wet hair and down the nape of his neck. Her mouth opened more for him, welcoming his tongue. He felt her hand at the hem of his t-shirt and before he knew wit, she had pulled it off over his head. Her hands rested on his collarbone, massaging him, almost cat-like. Her delicate hands ran over the small stubble of hairs that crossed his chest. She felt him tremble under her touch as her hand trailed lower down his torso to his tight stomach muscles. He felt he hands on the button of his pants, and he shook his head.

Confused, she pulled back questioning him with her eyes. He simply smiled down at her and placed her arms back over his shoulder around his neck and pulled her up to wrap her legs around his waist as he carried her back into the stark bedroom. He lowered her to the edge of the bed and slowly pulled her tank top over her head. He lowered her body back and slowly unbuttoned her jeans. His mouth left hers to kiss down her neck and down her chest to her scarred stomach. He placed small, lazy kisses across her scar, causing her stomach muscled to quiver below his touch. She felt him drag her zipper down and knew he had peeled her wet jeans off her legs. He moved back over her, his body looming above her. She shocked him by wrapping her bare legs around his waist and flipping them over so she was straddling his waist.

He stared in awe of her black, lace-clad figure. God, she was beautiful. Her lace bra barely covered her breasts and the sight of her hard nipples through the fabric, made him want to rip it from her. Her perfectly toned stomach was gorgeous, even with the battle scar marring the flesh. The sight of it made him want her even more. She leaned down and began nibbling at his throat, sighing in his ear, sending chills through him. He watched in awe as she kissed eh way across his chest down his stomach, nipping at the flesh right above the waistband of his jeans. She leaned back to unbutton his pants and drag them down his long legs. She climbed from the bed and stood looking at him, with a look of longing on her face. He sat up to wrap his arms around her waist, placing kisses on her hipbones above her lace boy shorts.

"It's been so long since I have done this, I don't even know if everything still works since they…" she tailed off, her face blushing, tears swelling in her eyes.

"Babe, we can try and if anything I do hurts you, just tell me and we can stop," he whispered back at her. At her tiny nod of agreement, he reached up and unclasped her bra and brought her back down beneath him on the bed. He stopped a minute just to breathe her in. She was absolutely perfect to him. The viper was curled seductively over her left breast begging him to bring his mouth to it. When his mouth closed over her breast her hips surged upward into his, and a small gasp escaped her mouth. He let his hands wander down to the band of her panties and pulled them down her. His mouth moved to her other breast raining kisses over it. She made a small whimper and he pulled back thinking she wanted him to stop. He looked into her eyes and she shook her head no, as if to say she was fine and to continue. He took her nipper into his mouth as he push a finger inside of her wet folds. _God, she's tight!_ He thought to himself. He could feel her tense up under him as he pulled his finger out and re-entered her with two.

His mouth found hers again as he tried soothing her. He felt her walls clench around his hand and her hips rose up to meet him. She rode his hand until a small cry escaped her mouth. He almost stopped completely when he felt her hand go in his boxers and grab him. A moan left his mouth as she wrapped her long fingers around his engorged member. He reached down to shove his boxers from his hips and moved up her body positioning himself between her thighs.

"I'm going to be as gentle as possible, I promise. Just tell me if I…"

"Shut up and just get inside me already!" she growled at him.

He grinned down at her and slowly entered her tight channel. He moaned at her tightness and hissed in her ear as she drug her nails down his back. He braced his arms on both sides of her head, trying to keep his weight off her small frame. He felt her wrap her legs around his waist and could feel himself plunge deeper into her. Her body arched into him, pulling him in deeper. Her hands reached his face, pulling him into another searing kiss as he quickened his pace. He felt her grow tighter around him and heard her breath catching as he felt her orgasm. He continued to ride out her orgasm, before joining her.

He collapse on the bed next to her, with one of legs still wrapped around him lazily. They were both panting and covered in a sheen of sweat. "Well, I think it is official," she gasped.

"What's, that?" he asked, his voice muffled in her pillows.

"It works," she replied. He just sat up to stare at her then a grin spread across her face and he knew she relieved. She started giggling as she buried her face in to his neck.

"It certainly does. And I don't know about you, but I certainly plan to make good use of it to," he laughed nipping at her earlobe, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer. They laid snuggled into each other's embrace neither saying anything, just taking it all in.

"You know I didn't know what all they were planning to so to me when I signed up for the additional enhancements," she confessed staring at the ceiling. "I figure they would give me some sort of potion or do some sort of spell to heighten the intensity of my abilities. But, instead they completely altered them. They picked out pieces of them and added new components. Guess I should have read the fine print, huh?"

"Claire said something about your all's story downstairs. What was she talking about?" He questioned, running a long finger down her arm.

"Let's see if I can get this right, Jessa and Luna tell it way better than I do," she started clearing her throat. "Once upon a time, there were four beautiful witched. All four were blessed with extraordinary talents. One could manipulate electrical currents around her, acting as a conductor of energy; one could manipulate the earth and nature, talk to the trees, calm animals, alter the weather; one had a gift for healing life, she could simply kiss a wounded animal or human and heal it with her touch; the fourth girl had the amazing gift of love. She was a bleeding heart of sorts, and would absorb negative forces and replace them with something positive. Having such a gift also allowed her to borrow gifts from those with open hearts and use them for her own. In exchange, she had to exchange them for a gift of her own, a piece of her love in a way." He just nodded in understanding, and she continued.

"One day the four girls were offered the opportunity to enhance their abilities and perfect their gifts so that together, they would become an unstoppable force, regenerating, healing, absorbing negativity and replacing it with love. They would work as one continues ring of power. Of course, their natural curiosity and need for knowledge took over and their training with a man named Goeffrey Blackstone began. He taught them to rely on themselves, not a wand to guide their abilities into actions. Within days they had all perfected using wandless magic. They knew they would only be successful as long as they worked as one. They learned a means of communication through their spirits, seeking each other in times of need."

"One day tragedy struck the sister with the gift of love. The other three sisters had already experienced extreme tragedy and were developing in spite of it. The fourth sister, though experiences in times of tragedy, was not as affected due to her gift of love. However, in her anger and despair at her personal tragedy, she broke. She traveled across oceans with the intention of borrowing the abilities of other powerful withes and wizards. She took what she could, everything she could, however in her weakened state she could not how much of her remaining love she syphoned back out. When she returned home she was captured and tortured. She had lost so much love already at her own hands, she lost control of herself and did not know how to use the gifts she stole. She had no abilities and now no longer had any love left to protect herself. They cut out her soul, her child, destroyed her internally, draining out the last ounce of love she had left in her.

When she realized what had happened, she was given a new opportunity to create a new life for herself. She embraced her hollow skin, and vowed that she would never let love ruin her again. She truly became the viper she felt inside; cold, conniving, seductive, hypnotizing, and lethal as hell. She used her new power to intimidate and frighten her adversaries, to manipulate them through her sight and her voice. Giving into the darkness, she late her rage consume her. Because of her bodies need for love to survive, and her refusal to find a new source of love, she was destined to dissolve, her wounds would never heal. Her scars remain fresh, her hair once cut, will never grow back. Blackstone told her on his death bed that she could only heal if she could fight the Black Mamba and welcome love again. He promised her that she would heal at the rate at which she allows love back in, and then he passed."

Draco laid in silence thinking of the story she just told him-her story. "I sustained my life by staying with the other Mambas, but at the same time, they can't function without my side of the square. I have been feeding them tainted abilities and gifts and taking what little love I can from them, and then feeding it back second-hand. They haven't been able to perform at their highest abilities because of me. They all seemed to feel better yesterday when my hair grew back and my scar started fading. They were happy laughing, hiding instruments. Then today I let the Black Mamba take over and you saw what it did to me, what kind of impact it had on Claire. She is our side gifted in nature, and as the viper in all of us is a piece of nature it impacts her as equally bad. She is the only one who can restrain me physically and calm me. That's why she went after me like she did. Don't think that she's hurt me by any means. But everyone needs to know that if the viper takes over again to the point it's uncontrollable, she is also the only one who can take me down completely."

"Take you down? Surely you don't mean…" Draco began.

"She would be the one to kill me. Destroy me, destroy the Black Mamba."

"I'm not going to let that happen. So you four can just forget about all of this bullshit about taking you down and bagging you up!" he yelled sitting up in bed.

"Draco. Calm down," she said trying to soothe his panic. "She was able to calm me just fine today. Just call her a snake charmer if you must. She knows how far to take it, and when to ask for help."

"Okay, but just try to understand one thing, Hermione," he began, his voice low, "I have only been back around you for less than forty-eight hours. It's been eight years since I've last seen you, and in the last two days feelings that I have given up on ever experiencing have flooded back into me and I'll be damned if anyone is sitting by waiting for you to snap so they can take you out."

"Okay," she whispered into his ear, running her hands through his hair trying to calm him.

"Okay? All you can say is okay?" he asked.

"I don't know what else to say right now without scaring you or myself. I will tell you that over the last two days, I have been through the world's longest emotional roller coaster ever. Feelings that I didn't think I could have or was allowed to have after losing my husband have drowned me. Some of these feeling I don't even remember having with him to be honest, and that scares the shit out of me. It can be a support for me, but also a liability and you need to know that now."

"Okay," he admitted, kissing her forehead. "Can I say one more thing and not have you freak out?" At her nod of approval, he continued. "Aurors are typically paired up with someone who can match their abilities. Harry and Ron of course were matched, that was a given. But some of us were never able to be paired. Even Blaise and I didn't work out together. I have this weird feeling that there may be some reason behind that. Maybe some reason the ministry got rid of female Aurors at the same time the IMF was looking for some women with natural abilities."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I think you four were supposed to be paired with us. I think you were supposed to be originally paired with me. I lack love, I always have been. I have been the coldest person my entire life, and you have been overflowing with love. I see Blaise and Jessa together. She can manipulate electrical currents acting as a conductor, and he is the most grounded person I know. I feel like together he could stabilize her on her own."

"But Jessa is American."

"I'm kind of confused about that as well, but we've just been given a crate full of British witches and wizards that fled, perhaps they're interrelated to both Jessa and Claire. Claire and Oliver freaking move in sync with one another. Think about it, she manipulates the earth and weather, and there isn't anyone who can fly in the wind and rain better than him and you know it."

"What about Luna?" Hermione asked. Everything Draco was saying made sense to her, but she couldn't be 100% sure of the whole thing until she had more proof.

"I still am keeping my eyes open to that. What doesn't flow with my theory is the fact that there are five unmatched Aurors and only four of you all. Perhaps one's partner just hasn't come along yet, but I can't be sure."

"I think you may be onto something, and we definitely need to bring this up to everyone else. I guess we should get dressed, huh." She laughed.

"If we must," he grumbled untangling himself from the covers and walking over to his damp clothes. Muttering a drying spell he put them back on and waited for Hermione to come back out of the bathroom.

"You ready?" he hollered to her through the door.

"Um…you go ahead! I'll be down in a few minutes! I need to take care of something first!" she yelled back.

"Are you ok?" He was concerned about the way her voice sounded pinched, frightened,

"Um…yes. I'll be fine. I will be down soon."

"Oh, okay. I'll see you down there." He scolded himself for leaving her, but if she insisted she was fine, he wasn't going to push it.

Claire entered back into the warehouse to complete silence. It was exactly what she needed. She walked past some of her favorite cars, longingly caressing them like an old lover. They reminded her of home, American muscle. Well at least they reminded her of the home she was raised in. She knew it would come up sooner or later, the topic of her actual heritage. She just didn't want anyone knowing just yet, she didn't want Jessa to feel like she was out of the loop. She climbed the metal stairs bracing herself for the onslaught of questions from the other Mambas. She didn't want to hear the usual '_Are you okay?' _Or _'Where'd you go?'_ She was one who enjoyed spending time on her own when she got overwhelmed, it must be the joys of being raised with a twin. Her twin…her true sister…she missed her so much. She was truly the only person to ever fully understand her. She felt she was her other half. And now she was gone, and fighting to live every day without her was becoming the most difficult thing, even with the Mambas. Her sister was the other half to her power. Claire was the Earth and Fire, her sister the Wind and Water. She didn't know how much longer she could keep up the charade of pretending that everything was okay.

She climbed that last set of steps bracing herself for it, the inevitable, however it never came. The warehouse was quiet. All she heard was the sound of broken glass tinkling into the trashcan. When she crossed the room, her heart stopped in her chest. Oliver had the broom and dust pan in his hands, scooping up the last of the mess.

"You know, last time I heard, there was this little thing called magic, and with a simple flick of a wand you can clean things up or even repair things that are broken," she joked coming up to where he was kneeling and crouched down in front of him.

"Ah, yes," he grinned back with his thick brogue. "However last time I checked, if someone find great comfort in breaking something, then perhaps they don't want it to be fixed. Some may find comfort in the ability to fix things with magic, however I find it much more comforting to fix things the old fashioned way."

"Oh and what way would that be?" she questioned suddenly feeling flushed at the way his rolled of his tongue and the way his eyes took her in.

"Well you see," he continued. "I think that if you give something enough patience and time and devotion, then it makes it much easier to fix. You can't rush into fixing something so broken as a box of dishes. If you rush, you may miss a piece and then someone else could become damaged in the process."

"I think you have been spending too much time thinking about my broken dishes Mr. Wood. Unless you weren't just talking about my dishes," she implied.

"Well now, you see, I have had almost an hour thinking about these broken dishes, and as interesting as it has been to try and think of a way to fix them, I have a higher interest in trying to fix their broken assailant who I have the pleasure of thinking about for two days now," he stated reaching up to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

Clearing her throat, she stood, anxious to get away from the rush of emotions going through her. "So, um, where is everyone?"

"They all went back to Grimmauld Place for a few extra supplies they needed. Apparently in the midst of her and Blaise giving each other puppy dog eyes, Jessa forgot her duffel bag and some other things," he laughed.

"That sounds like her alright. God, love her, that child is helpless sometimes. Well, I'm starved, can I at least make you a sandwich for cleaning up my chaos?"

"I'd like that very much. Thank you."

"You more than welcome," she smiled to him. Turning to the refrigerator, se gather the things she needed and laid them on the counter. All she could hear was her moving around, she looked up and he was staring at her intently. He appeared amused at her actions. Who knew that fixing a turkey sandwich could lead into a visual footsy match of sorts. Needing to get her mind off his stare, she asked the first question that popped into her head. "So, why don't you play quidditch anymore?"

"Do, what?" he asked coming out of his trance.

"Well, I may have been raised in the States, but even I know who the famous Oliver Wood is. You are equivalent to the David Beckham of quidditch. So why don't you play anymore?"

"Oh, thank you I think. It is kind of refreshing knowing that someone outside of England knows of me. Um, I don't know exactly. I used to love the sport and I will admit that I was damned good at it, but after the war it seemed kind of pointless. I used it for a long time to distract myself, and since I didn't need the distraction anymore since Voldemort's fall, I decided to put my other skills to good use too."

"Oh, and exactly what would those be?" she teased handing him his sandwich. She watched his face blush as he tried to calm himself to answer.

"Well my parents always pushed flying when I was growing up. Everyone told me that I had a certain way with wind and water that I could function in the worst conditions possible and still be completely calm and collected. They pushed my ability to play quidditch so much, that they didn't realize that I was good at transfiguration and charms as well as defensive dueling, three major things that can be used for much more than quidditch." He was so deep in his thought that he didn't see Claire's face pale.

"What do you mean about the wind and water thing you said?" she questioned anxiously.

"Well it's just that-"he began, but was cut off when Draco came down the spiral staircase whistling.

"Well someone is feeling better," Claire winked at him.

"I certainly hope that I'm not the only one feeling better after that," he replied back. He halted and his eyes got wide, realizing what he just said. "It's just that…um…well you know…we…um, I…"

"Draco, I'm pretty sure that we all can figure out why you two have been up there almost two hours," Claire said patting him on the shoulder. "Besides, did you not see the pictures the other night? I'm pretty sure we can all clear the air and say that you will not be offending any virgin ears here. We're all big girls, besides the big difference in living in the States and living over here is that where we live, sex is a religion. You can't survive without it." Oliver coughed on his drink at her little confession. Grinning like a she-devil, she tossed him a towel.

"Well this is officially the most awkward conversation I've been in on," sputtered Wood.

"Oh honey, just you wait. I understand that men like to brag about their conquests, but just wait until you get a group of women in a room together. We talk about things that will make your mama's hair fall out!"

Just as soon as Oliver went to ask her about her little statement, they heard laughter and shouts coming in from downstairs. "We're back!" Blaise shouted coming up the steps, his arm around Jessa. Jessa released herself from Blaise's grasp, running over and jumping on Claire, planting a big kiss on her cheek.

"How ya feeling?" she laughed, hugging onto her sister.

"I'd be better if I wasn't having to hold up your ass! Gees, what are these Brits feeding you?" she laughed, dropping Jessa to the floor.

"I dunno, but I swear if I have to have anyone translate a menu for me again while we're here I am going to die! I am dying for some Taco Bell," she groaned laying out in the floor, like a wounded dog.

"Come on, let's go play something," Claire said grabbing Jessa's hand and pulling her up.

"You mean it? Really? Will Hermione be mad?"

"Nah, I think thanks to a certain someone, she will be feeling a lot better," Claire replied winking at Draco.

"Wait a second…what did I miss?" Jessa asked confused, looking between Draco and Claire. She stood still, and everyone knew she was trying to pick up on Hermione's emotions. Suddenly her jaw dropped open and her face flushed. "O.M.G! You dirty dog!" she yelled punching Draco in the arm. "About friggin' time! I was beginning to worry I would shrivel up into some frigid hag before long."

"Did she tell you the story?" Luna demanded. To be honest she was the only one that seemed not happy about the turn of events. She looked pissed.

"Actually, yes she did," Draco answered.

"Shit!" all the girls screamed, clutching their stomachs in pain. Jessa dropped to the floor heaving as Luna ran up the stairs.

"Get a healer here now!" Claire yelled to the men before she ran up the stairs. Blaise ran over to Jessa, pulling her off the floor and putting her on the sofa. He procured a basin for her to get sick in.

"Thanks," she murmured between heaves.

Draco in a panic, ran upstairs after the women. He knew where they were going. He could sense Hermione's pain. He somehow had become more in tune with her over the last two days. First it was finding her in the park, then sensing her when she entered a room, now he could feel her panic and discomfort. Nothing he felt prepared him for what he walked into though. He walked across her bedroom floor and heard her crying in pain. He followed the sounds of her cries and Luna's soft voice to the bathroom. The sight made him gag. Blood, what seemed like gallons, was all over the floor around her.

"Hermione…shhh…it's going to be okay. They are getting a healer here, just hang on," Claire soothed, holding Hermione's hair back. Evidently it had started growing again.

"No…no healer…cancel the call…I'll be fine…I think it has stopped," she said between breaths.

"Are you sure? You've lost a lot of blood," Luna said timidly. "I can heal cuts and the like, but this is beyond me. This is dark magic, and I don't know where to even begin."

"It's not dark magic, just part of the process," Hermione corrected. "He said this would happen. I just didn't know it would happen so fast."

"Hermione…"Draco said from the doorway. He wanted to go to her, but didn't know if she'd let him. He did this to her.

"Stop that!" she yelled at him. "You did _not_ do this to me!"

"How did you…" he asked. Did he say it out loud?

"I can sense your emotions you fool. It is getting stronger too. Whatever connection you were thinking of earlier, I think you were right. I know that you aren't comfortable around blood either, so let me get cleaned up and I'll come downstairs in a few minutes. I'm okay now, I promise. Go."

"But, I…"

"Draco, we'll get her cleaned up and take her downstairs to you," Claire told him. She could sense his conflict too apparently.

Draco didn't want to leave her like that. If anything happened to her, he didn't know what he would do. She was like a piece of him now, another limb. He functioned only to tend to her needs, to make her happy.

"And you do, you fool," she smiled at him. "Go, I'm thirsty, fix me a big glass of water please. I'm going to need it."

"Okay, I'll be downstairs then," he said nervously, turning away to leave the room.

"Oh and Draco…" she paused waiting for him to turn around, when he did she continued, "About that extra limb thing you were thinking about…it better not be anything perverted." She flashed him a sneaky grin and shooed him out of the room.

When Draco returned down to the living space, Jessa was frantic. "Is she okay? They told me to cancel the healer, so I did, but I'm so worried about her! I could feel her, it was like she was being ripped in half!"

"Jessa, love," Blaise came up to her and gripped her by the shoulders. "If she says to call the healer off, then she's fine." He turned to Draco, "Jessa told me their little story while ago, that's pretty scary shit, mate."

"Yeah, tell me about it. At least you didn't see her like that," Draco replied. "I could use a drink right about now to be honest."

"Well Potter and Weasley are here now. We called everyone in that was at Grimmauld Place yesterday. I didn't know what else to do, I thought they should be here just in case…" he trailed off. Draco knew that he meant in case she died.

"Okay, they should be down soon."

"Speak of the little she-devil herself!" Blaise yelled looking over Draco's shoulder at the three women coming down the stairs. "Man, are you a sight for sore eyes!"

The watched as Jessa ran over to embrace Hermione, and watched as the youngest Mamba's body shook with silent sobs. Draco watched as Hermione whispered something in her ear. Clearly it was what Jessa needed to hear because she jerk back and her eyes got wide.

"Really?! Are you sure? Because I can wait! It's just that I've been really practicing and I knew you'd be so proud of me, I even learned the lyrics too!"

"Yes, you can use my guitar too," Hermione replied, letting her go. Jessa ran across the room to the mock stage and picked up a fat belly acoustic guitar. Blaise followed her over, curious as to what she was doing as she quickly tuned it.

Draco stood still watching as Hermione slowly walked to him. When her arms wrapped around his waist and she buried her face in his chest, he let out the breath he'd been holding and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Her hair was back down her back again, glowing under the kitchen lights. He ran his fingers through it, praying that it wouldn't fall out again.

"I don't think it will go anywhere this time. A lot more came back than just my hair," she whispered into his chest.

"Like what?" he questioned pulling her face up so he could look at her. Then he saw it, "Ah…the freckles," he grinned.

"Yeah, yeah, those I could have lived without!" she laughed. Gods, how he loved her laugh. All the Mambas turned to her laughter, smiles across their faces. Draco looked at all four of them, they all seemed slightly different for some odd reason.

"Malfoy, a picture might last longer, you know," Luna smirked at him. "And yes, we all know, that we all have a little something back now. Jessa's hair has gone back to its original color and so have Claire's eyes," she explained. Draco, Oliver and Blaise all looked at the women in question, sure enough Jessa's hair was lighter, and almost a honey blonde and Claire's eyes were the brightest blue he'd ever seen. Both women shifted uncomfortably at the men staring at them.

"What did you get back?" he questioned.

"My walk," she grinned. Draco knew something had been off about her. In school she almost skipped everywhere she went, and when she did slow down to walk she always had this dazed expression about her. When they arrived, she almost looked pained to walk, and acted like she had to cover up a mild limp.

"I think that's enough for now, ladies," Hermione sighed. "I think I need to sit down and rest a bit." Draco led her over to a pile of pillows Jessa had thrown on the floor. She stopped to hug Harry and give a sharp nod to Ron. Draco wondered, if they'd ever be able to let the past go and move on. "Maybe," she said with a small smile to him as he lowered her down on the pillows and sat behind her on the sofa. She had her back against the couch, sitting between his legs, and all he wanted to do was run his hands through her hair. Sensing his need, she untucked it from behind her as an invitation and threw a quick smile over her shoulder.

"Okay, as many of you all know, music has become a slight taboo amongst us Mambas. At one point a few years ago, we all started a little band," Jessa explained, picking up what Draco knew to be Hermione's guitar. "With everything that had happened, we weren't able to perform anymore, due to some fears of not being able to control certain urges some of us had," she continued winking at Hermione. "Believe it or not, this big mouth Southern Gal here, stuck herself behind the drums so that she'd never have to get up and sing. No matter how many times Hermione begged me back then to sign for her, I refused, claiming that I couldn't. Truth was, that was a complete lie," she explained at Hermione's confused expression.

"In fact, it's a huge lie. And one I can never take back. Truth is, I never had a need to. You three did all the work, and it was beautiful and I never felt like I was special enough to share in on that. So now I'm here a blubbering wreck…did I mention how much your new found emotions have made me a major cry baby these days? Anyway. When I heard we were coming here the other day, I decided that someone needed to play your guitar again, and I learned one of your favorite songs on my own to surprise you with when the time came for you to hear it." She smiled sheepishly at the room. At Hermione's smile of surprise and nod of approval, Jessa cleared her throat. "Okay, here goes nothing. And don't any of you assholes laugh at me. My twang gets a little thicker when I sing," she laughed picking up the guitar and sitting on a pillow in front of Hermione. Claire and Luna sat on the couch, both leaned forward as if they didn't want to miss a minute of this miraculous event.

She leaned over the guitar and began plucking a soft tune that immediately Hermione must've recognized because she sat straight up leaned in to watch. She frantically looked over to Luna and Claire who had the same amazed look on their faces.

**_Well I've heard there was a sacred chord_**

**_David played and it pleased the Lord_**

**_But you don't really care for music, do ya?_**

**_Well it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth_**

**_The minor fall and the major lift_**

**_The baffled King composing Hallelujah_**

**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_**

**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_**

Draco felt Blaise lean on the back of the couch behind him as she continued playing between the verses. Clearly nobody was expecting this to come out of the young woman, he could hear Blaise take in a deep breath as she continued singing.

**_Well, your faith was strong but you needed proof_**

**_You saw her bathing on the roof_**

**_Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you_**

**_And she tied you to her kitchen chair_**

**_She broke your throne and she cut your hair_**

**_And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah_**

**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_**

**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_**

**_Well baby I have been here before_**

**_I've seen this room, and I've walked this floor_**

**_You know I used to live alone before I knew ya_**

**_And I've seen your flag on the marble arch_**

**_And love is not a victory march_**

**_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_**

**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah, yea_**

**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_**

As she plucked through the melody of the song, Draco saw Hermione wipe a tear from her cheek, and Jessa just gave her a small smile in return as if to prepare her for the next verse.

**_Well there was a time when you let me know_**

**_What's really going on below_**

**_But now you never show that to me, do ya do ya?_**

**_And remember when I moved with you_**

**_The holy dove was moving too_**

**_And every breath we drew was Hallelujah_**

**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_**

**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_**

**_Well maybe there is a God above_**

**_But all I ever learned from love_**

**_Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you_**

**_And it's not a cry that you hear at night_**

**_It's not somebody who's seen the light_**

**_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah, oh_**

**_Hallelujah, oh Hallelujah_**

**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_**

**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_**

**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_**

The room was still and silent as she finished strumming out the last few chords of the song and then mass chaos erupted in the form of Claire.

"You little shit! I've been stuck singing backup all this time while you beat on them drums like some jungle woman, and this whole time you could sing like that?" She ran over and grabbed her up off the floor in a hug.

"It just wasn't my thing, and to be honest I still prefer the drums!" she said in a strained voice. "And to be honest, Claire, you're kind of crushing me."

"Oh, sorry kiddo,"

"It's all good. So, did I do okay?" she asked sheepishly to Hermione who had yet to say anything.

Hermione rose slowly from her seat on the floor and walked over to her. "If I ever had a little sister, who understood me like that and could give me exactly what I need like you just did, I would hope she'd be you. You don't know how much I needed that," she said pulling her into a tight hug. Silent tears ran down Jessa's face. She frantically tried wiping them away.

"Oh God, there I go again. I look like blubbering blonde idiot! I was kind of getting used to being a red head, you know! Then you had to get all remedied and put us all back to our old selves. I think I may have shrunk!" she laughed. She suddenly hissed in pain grabbing her stomach. "Oooowwww! What the hell was that?"

"Um, I'll be right back. Draco, can you follow me?" Hermione panicked, wide eyed running from the room.

"Do we need to call a healer?" Blaise asked running over to Jessa who was still rubbing her stomach in pain. She shook her head no.

"It's just a burning pain in my skin. Like a bad sunburn. She's getting the full brunt of whatever it is."

Draco ran after Hermione up to her room and found her standing in front of her dresser looking in the mirror with her shirt pulled up.

"What is it?" He asked worried about her surprised expression.

"It's gone," she gasped turning to face him. He glanced from her face down to her stomach. Where her puckered scar had been was just a faint pink line across her abdomen. Draco walked up to her and pulled her shirt completely off to look at her better. The pink hash marks that had crossed her back had faded to barely visible white lines. He turned her arm over and watched her MUDBLOOD scar fade and the swelling go down until it was flat and white against her skin. He heard her hiss in pain and grab her chest. He pulled her hand away to watch her viper tattoo fade. It looked like a birthmark, much like his Dark Mark did. She looked so shocked and excited at the same time that all he wanted to do was pull her up to him and kiss her, but he was cut off by a loud shout from downstairs.

"SON OF A-!" Luna yelled. Hermione bolted downstairs to see Luna on the floor holding a very delicate part of her anatomy. She looked up to see Jessa with a make shift ice pack of frozen peas on her neck and Claire with one shoved down the back of her pants. She knew they were in serious pain, as she watched their tattoos fade as hers had, with the exception of Luna. Thankfully she hadn't resorted to shoving peas in the front of her pants. Hermione looked at all the men in the room who were trying to hide their laughter and smiles behind their hands, feigning coughing.

"I'm guessing yours is gone too then, huh?" Claire looked at Hermione accusingly. "That son of a gun hurt worse coming off than it did going on! Thanks for the heads up!"

"You've got another thing coming, if you think I am getting it put back on again," Luna moaned from her place on the cold floor.

"It's your own damn fault that you put yours above your ass, and you put yours right next to your vagina," Jessa laughed. "Not to mention, you had to go and put a huge ass version on it," she managed to get out between peals of laughter. "Ha! Vagina snake!"

"Stop talking about my vagina you bubbly blonde idiot!" Luna yelled throwing her pillow at Jessa who managed to drop her peas and fall to the floor laughing.

"I get to talk about it all I want. Vagina, vagina, vagina! I'm just glad I opted for a small one on my neck. Feels like a curling iron burn. I bet yours feels like a freaking hack job Brazilian wax! That's what you get for calling me a bubbly blonde idiot. In case you failed to notice, you're blonder than me! At least I was a smarter blonde than you!"

Now everyone was doubled in laughter as they made their way up off the floor. Jessa joined Blaise on the sofa and Claire shot a glance at Oliver who was watching her extract her ice pack from her pants with an appreciative look on his face. Luna just limped uncomfortable to the closest seat and plopped down.

"Now that we have that under control," Hermione began. "Harry, Draco has a theory about something that I think could be a part of all of this in some way." Harry looked to Draco who repeated his theory to everyone.

"So what you're trying to say is that somehow you think that the Mambas are somehow supposed to be paired up with the Aurors? If that was the case then why would Kingsley try to have gotten rid of them in the first place?" Harry asked confused.

"Besides," Dean began. Only Hermione and Luna are from here, not Claire and Jessa. How would they be involved in any of this?"

"Well, you see," Claire began. Everyone's eyes turned to her as she kept her head ducked. Normally Claire would be a very upfront and bold person, so for her to duck her head in shame like this, Hermione knew she had to be ashamed of what she was about to admit to. "I am not technically American."

"What do you mean you're not American?" Jessa demanded. "You're from Brooklyn!"

"Jessa, I know I am from Brooklyn. I have lived there since I was two. But I wasn't born there. I was born here. My mother grew up here, went to Hogwart's like you all, but ended up moving to the States after school where she met my dad. They were vacationing here when she went into labor and I was born at St. Mungo's prematurely. We stayed here for the first two years battling citizenship laws. My parents wanted to go back to the States, but the Ministry wouldn't allow it, claiming that I was to be registered though the British Ministry of Magic and stay here. So the fled on night. The defected just like all of those victims."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't think it was relevant. It was over twenty years ago!"

"Where are your parents now?" Harry asked.

"They died when I was five. I was raised in my aunt's home as a muggle until I started showing my magical abilities and then I was taken into a primary school at the age of seven. I lived in schools for magical children ever since, until I graduated."

"How did your parents die?" questioned Ron.

"Our house caught on fire while I was at school one day and their bodies were found in the remains."

"Claire, I'm not saying that it's relevant, but are you sure they were killed in the house fire? I mean, do you think there is any chance they were killed and the house was set on fire to cover it up?" Dean asked.

"I never thought about it until this past year when we started seeing more cases of people dying in house fires. I never associated it since it happened so long ago."

"I just don't understand some of this. If we are supposed to be destined to be paired up or whatever, then who are you supposed to be paired with, and why would anyone try to prevent that?" Blaise asked. "Besides our numbers are off a little. There's four of you and five unpaired Aurors.

"Well that's just it, I wasn't actually supposed to be a Mamba," she admitted.

"WHAT?" Hermione, Jessa, and Luna yelled together.

"I said I wasn't actually supposed to be a Mamba. Since you all have been talking through this I have been piecing it all together in my head. Originally I was a standby in the program, wait listed if you must."

"Who _was _supposed to be in the group then?" Jessa demanded.

"I think you all can figure that out. I was recruited for the same reason you all were. I was naturally gifted, and had nothing left in my life to lose. I was emotionally damaged due to some bullshit trauma, just like you. Think, Jessa, think."

"Courtney?" Jessa gasped in a whisper.

"Who's Courtney?" Ron demanded.

"She was my twin. She was originally recruited straight out of school, one of the firsts actually, handpicked by Geoffrey himself. She was different than me though. Her talents exact opposite of me. We were a team all on our own, the perfect balance. She suggested it to the IMF that we both be recruited, but they shot the idea down, claiming that it wasn't an ideal match. I didn't know what they were talking about until now. They didn't have anyone to pair me with."

"So, what happened?" Dean questioned.

"Well, I remember Courtney coming home from training one day frantic saying that she had made a huge mistake, that she should have never signed on and that had she known what they were going to do then she never would have signed her contract. She didn't make any sense at all. She was panicked and tried to leave and come back here to my mom's family. She said they'd be able to protect her, that I should come too. We were actually on our way to the airport when out of nowhere a bus pulled out in front of me when I was crossing the street. She saw it and tried shoving me out of the way and it hit her."

The room grew quiet as she told her story of watching her sister die in front of her. "She was drug around the corner. I remember her trying to say something to me before the bus came and she pushed her favorite locket into my hand. I never understood what she was trying to say until you all brought up the idea; she said something about being a pair. I thought she was referring to me the whole time. After all, we were a pair. Anyway the next day I had to meet with the IMF to go over her funeral arrangements, they had offered to pay for the whole thing. At the end of the funeral, they approached me about taking her place, saying that they had worked out the numbers after all and that they had a spot for me. I didn't have anything else to do so I signed up."

"What day did this all happen?" Oliver looked up from his seat, a look of dread on his face.

"It was a Monday, May 9th I think, why?"

"That's the day I graduated the Academy," he replied looking nauseas.

"Why would they pair you two up? You don't have any out of the ordinary talents," Neville exclaimed.

"That's not exactly true is it Oliver?" Claire questioned. At the shake of his head, she elaborated. "I have a natural ability to manipulate earth and fire, my sister was able to manipulate wind and water. I think everyone has seen firsthand Oliver's ability to perform in the worst weather conditions possible, and I don't think it has anything to do with sheer luck."

"Well if your sister was originally recruited for her wind and water abilities, who was she supposed to be paired with?" suggested Dean.

"I think that must have been why she gave me her locket," She said pulling it off her neck. She opened it to pull out the pictures of her and Courtney. Behind Courtney's picture was a manila folder that had been shrunk down to fit. She placed it in the palm of her hand and waved her palm over it returning it to its original size. Standing from her seat, she moved away from the table opening it and flipping through the contents. Catching her breath she closed the folder and walked across the room. Everyone was silent, waiting for her to make stop. They all knew she knew who Courtney's partner was and they were in the room. She stopped in front of Neville and laid the folder in his outstretched hand.

"I think you would have really loved her. She was a bit timid, just like you. But deep down, tough as nails, loyal, probably the best sister anyone could have asked for. She was the bravest soldier I had ever seen. She would have considered it a true honor to be paired with someone as brave as you. I secretly think she knew that if she came back here she would have been able to track you down," she leaned in to kiss Neville's forehead, wiping a tear from her eye. Then she pulled him into a hug. Neville wrapped his arms around her, not knowing how to feel about the whole thing.

"If you want to know anything else about her that's not in that folder, I will be happy to tell you anything I can," she said as she pulled away. At his nod, she turned around and headed upstairs.

Everyone stared at Neville as he flipped open the folder. "I guess that would make since, wouldn't it. Parents gone, raise by other family. She's gifted in wind and water, and we all know I am good at Herbology and blowing things up," he laughed. "She was really pretty too," he lifted her profile picture out of the folder. She looked almost identical to Claire, yet something about her showed the difference in personalities. Where Claire's smile was a little more reserved, Courtney's was contagious, spreading ear to ear. She even had a small dimple in her right cheek that Claire didn't. "She looks so familiar, though I don't know where I would have seen her," he mumbled.

"Can I see that?" Harry asked walking over to Neville. When he handed it over, Hay flipped though it quickly scanning through the pages. "Oh my gosh! Hermione come look at this. There's a page of genetic breakdowns in here. It looks like this is Neville's genetic makeup. And they've compared it to Courtney's. Look, and here's a list of substitutes. Looks like they ruled out Claire, probably due to her abilities, but it looks like they still have a cousin listed…"he trailed off as he read the name, his eyed going wide.

"Who is it, Harry?" Hermione asked coming to look over his shoulder. Her jaw dropped as she pulled out the page to look at it closer. "No fucking way!" she yelled throwing the page back in the folder. "Claire! Get your ass down here now!"

"What?" asked Claire as she came barreling down the stairs. They could all tell she'd been crying. Her tiny nose was red and her cheeks were splotchy. She was frantically trying to clean off her face with her hand.

"Claire, what was your mom's maiden name?"

"What? Why do you want to know?"

"Just answer the question!"

"Just tell me why you want to know, and I'll tell you dammit!"

"It looks like they set up two genetic alternates for Neville, one was you but hey ruled you out, the other looks like a cousin of yours. Now please, tell me your mother's maiden name."

The entire room waited in anticipation as Claire took a deep breath and Hermione heard the worst news possible, "Parkinson."

_Parkinson_. There it was, the last thing many of them wanted to ever hear.

"What's the big deal? She's just some distant cousin. I've never even met her," Claire said shifting her views between everyone in the room. It was apparent that whoever her cousin was, nobody liked her. "Let me see that." She grabbed the genetics page back from Hermione. She reviewed it again then dropped it to the floor in shock.

"What is it?" Oliver demanded. "What's wrong?"

"We have the same birthday," she gasped. "She's not my cousin."

"When then who the hell is she?" Ron yelled.

"I think she's my sister."


	9. Chapter 9

Oliver remembered the day he had graduated the ministry. They had enlisted him in an accelerated training program once they'd gotten his response to their offer. The ministry had bombarded his mailbox with thousands of offers after the war, and he never accepted a single one. He had enjoyed playing quidditch but after the final battle, the sport held less and less spark for him. He realized that he had used it as an escape, a crutch, to balance out his messed up world. His parents had always encouraged him to play, and after losing them to the war, he felt he needed to hang on to what little of them he had left.

The perks of being a celebrity overtook him. In his need to drown out his past, he had dabbled with drugs and warm bodies that had been handed to him on a silver platter. He became so consumed in his alternative lifestyle and drug his friends down with him. He recalled going to an after party one night after a match with a teammate, and waking up to find him dead. He had overdosed on the drugs Oliver had supplied him with. The next day he turned in his equipment and entered a rehabilitation program offered by St. Mungo's. Three months later, he finally accepted an offer from the ministry. Wanting to turn his life right-side up, he saw it as the golden opportunity. Now hearing the theories being thrown around by Malfoy, he could feel his darkest thoughts creeping back up on him.

The first day at Grimmauld Place he was caught off guard by his immediate attention towards Claire. She hadn't said a single word to him directly, yet he felt he was inside her head, sensing her thoughts and next moves before they even happened. Yes, she was gorgeous. At six foot, three, he'd always been taller than any woman he'd ever been with. He knew that women like to feel dainty and petite, and that was what had drawn them to him, aside from his celebrity status. It made him feel powerful, towering over them, more masculine. Yet, when he'd stood next to Claire, he felt unstoppable. He'd watched her walk into the sitting room, arms laden with duffel bags and cases of equipment, yet she'd never asked for help. She refused to make eye-contact with anyone in the room as she walked in and out with more equipment. He could tell, even weighed down with bags and boxes she was tall, at least five foot, ten. In her black gear, she seemed tough and rugged, yet he still knew that her long legs could easily relax around a man's waist, his waist. He long black hair flowed down her back and she'd casually flip it back when it would fall over her shoulder.

He had watched in disdain as she gave up and pulled it into a ponytail, and he gritted his teeth at wanting to burn the offensive hair tie, as he imagined running his hands through it. Sensing his gaze, he remembered the way her eyes had snapped to him, her dark eyebrow arched at him, questioning his stare, before she quickly pulled her sights away from him and settled them for a blank space of wall over his shoulder. He sat curiously waiting for her to look at him again, yet it never came. Her grey eyes remained blank, like a dull newspaper, until the rest of her team had come in. He soon realized they all held their eyesight away from anyone in the room, and he soon learned of their enhanced vision. He watched her throughout the meeting as she stared at the dark wood of the round table, her shoulders stiff in attention. When she casually interrupted the conversation, he felt his blood rush to his groin at the sound of her voice. It had been sensual and melodic, a weapon in itself. He could sense her attention veering to him again even though she hadn't made contact with him, and he grew aggravated when she withdrew herself from the briefing, allowing the others in her team to lead.

Yes, she was definitely a mystery to him. She had been incredibly tough at the original brief at headquarters, but that was nothing compared to her display of power at the warehouse. He remembered how her demeanor had changed so rapidly. She had been so quiet, casually going along with whatever task Jessa had her working on, surprisingly neutral the entire day, yet when Hermione threw her tantrum, she had morphed into some lethal predator he had never seen before. She seemed to have struck from across the room, pinning Hermione to the wall so quickly that he hadn't even seen her move. She had allowed her internal viper take over, and it was the scariest, yet most alluring thing he'd ever witnessed. He watched her closely, her pupils constricting into slits, as she held Hermione off the floor and verbally beat her back into her right mind. He watched as her chest heaved after she dropped Hermione back to the floor, her breath short and rapid.

He had almost taken a step towards her when he saw her shoulders start to slump in realization of what she'd done, then when she grabbed the glass vase and hurled it across the room, he stopped himself. Stupid coward. He stood there and watched her fall apart little by little, destroying plates and bowls and empty frames. He wasn't what she needed, and he stopped himself from getting involved. When she stormed out of the building he sensed her tears, her anguish, and he let her go. He knew he wasn't what she'd needed right then, she needed freedom, air. But, he would be there for her when she got back, if she wished it. When she'd returned he felt her, before he saw her. He could feel her relief and even her curiosity as she watched him clean up the remains of Hurricane Claire. **_"I think you have been spending too much time thinking about my broken dishes Mr. Wood…"_**

**_"_****_Well now, you see, I have had almost an hour thinking about these broken dishes, and as interesting as it has been to try and think of a way to fix them, I have a higher interest in trying to fix their broken assailant who I have the pleasure of thinking about for two days now."_** He recalled their playful conversation, and the wave of emotion that he felt from her as he tucked her hair out of her face. Her little lapse in her emotional defense overwhelmed him. He knew she felt it too. Yet as soon as it came, she stomped it back down, leaving him starving for more.

He knew she was going to be an onion he'd have to carefully peel back instead of hacking into with a knife, causing unwanted tears and pain. And he was willing to be whatever she needed him to be, so long as it meant he could be next to her. Her standing next to him, made him feel more power and physical strength than any other woman had in his entire life. He could feel her movement before she even made it, like they were tethered together, pulling each other along. He felt that tether strengthen after Hermione's turn around with Jessa's song. He was shocked at how quickly her eyes had shifted colors, no longer slate grey and dull, but the most intense cerulean blue. At the admission of Malfoy's theory it all made sense to him, his tie to her, her blue eyes absorbing his water power, his dark brown taking in her earth powers. He remembered the emptiness he felt when she'd read over the file from her locket, felt her slipping away from him, from the room all together as she read about Parkinson, and with one final look at him she ran.

She fled the room, up the winding stairs, and he heard her door slam as the room began shaking. It started dull, a slight tremble, then as the shaking increased, the remaining photos fell from the walls shattering.

"We need to get out of here," Neville said warningly.

"No," Luna corrected. "There's a shield on the warehouse, we are contained here. If you open that door, the whole neighborhood is dead."

"She needs an anchor," Jessa warned. "She's slipping." The sink started spraying water as the plumbing began falling apart as the walls split.

Oliver didn't know what he was doing as her felt his feet pull him towards the stairs.

"Wood, no! She'll kill you!" Ron shouted.

"We're all dead if she keeps this up," he corrected as he placed his first step on the quaking stairs. "The way I figure, now is as good a time as any to test your theory." He cast one last look at the team before him as he stepped onto the third floor landing.

The destruction downstairs paled in comparison to Claire's door. It had become incased in thick flowering vines, covered in barbs, beautiful yet lethal. He didn't have the first clue as how to get through them. But, as his steps grew closer to the door, the vines loosened, beckoning him closer. They let up enough to expose the knob. As he grasped it, they detached completely, allowing him to enter into the depths of Claire's hell.

He sensed her before he saw her. Amongst the darkened room, consumed with vines, she was crouched in the middle of her bed, her long arms wrapped around her legs in defense of the onslaught of her emotions.

"Claire," he said softly, walking towards her.

Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice, and her eyes locked on his. They weren't the beautiful blue eyes she'd gotten back, they were black, the pupils consuming all of the white. In a voice, foreign to her body she hissed out a "get out" before he was sent sprawling against the wall.

"No," he demanding, climbing to his feet. The barbs were growing larger as the vines twisted around the windows. As if sensing him as no danger, they still allowed him free movement. He knew she needed him in that moment. Part of her was still calling out to him, and he would do anything in his power to get her back. He took a timid step towards her again, focusing on his inner instincts. He could smell the rain before he felt it as he turned his face upward. He could feel the way his body reacted to it, his skin opening to it, his fingers itching to feel it. And with one last glance at her, he opened the flood gates.

Claire sat in the middle of the bed, drenched as the torrential downpour, and covered her, pulling her from her darkest thoughts. At first, she panicked more, battling it. Her eyes searched the room for the source, expecting to see Courtney, only Courtney had been able to anchor her down. When her eyes landed on Oliver, she felt her tears mix with the waterfall. She gazed around the room, seeing the poisonous vines coating every surface, raising her hand she pulled them back into her. Her eyes locked back on Oliver, his face firm in concentration, his eyes locked straight on her, never wavering. He was the most intimidating man she'd ever been around, and she couldn't deny the pull towards him that she'd felt from the beginning. The sheer power he possessed, his ability to control the elements, to support her and anchor her, was the most sensual feeling she had ever had. Courtney had been an accessory to her, a way to improve upon herself, Oliver was a primal need.

As if sensing her physical need for him, she watched his eyes darken and glaze over as he stalked over to her on the bed. He stood there waiting for her to respond. Immediately her felt the last trembles of the ground cease as her eyes shifted back to their watery hue. He honed in to his element, calling it off, sending it away from Claire. He watched her blink, her eyelashes covered in droplets of water, her hair dripping down her back. He felt his hand reached out to her before he even realized what he was doing, letting it run over her long hair, pulling the moisture away, leaving it warm and dry. He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, and felt the water absorb back into himself, leaving her face clear. He pulled back looking down at her, watching her eyes shift to hold his, and watched her hand reach up to pull him down to her.

Her mouth found his, desperate for the connection. Her lips were full and warm, coaxing a moan out of him, at how perfectly they fused with his. He sense her movement before she made it, matching her mouth at every shift, welcoming her tongue inside his. He could feel her need for him building as he kissed his way down her throat, his hands clenching at the hem of her shirt. As if knowing what he wanted, she raised her arms, allowing him to pull the offensive item from her. His hands found the clasp of her bra, and in one swift movement he threw it away and let himself feast of her, his hands massaging her. Her hands clawed at his t-shirt, threatening to rip it away if it didn't come off soon. Seeing as how he wasn't easing up on his hold on her, she ripped it in two, pulling the pieces away from him. She heard him chuckle and felt him grin into her collarbone as his mouth met hers again.

She could feel his arousal against her hipbone, and her hands went instinctively to his waistband, dueling with the button of his jeans. Knowing what she wanted, he lifted off her and pushed them down himself as he let his mouth trail kisses down her stomach to her hipbones. Her hands grabbed at his hair as his mouth closed over the peak of her hip bone, his teeth grazing the hot flesh. She felt his fingers pull her pants down and his hand linger over heat. She couldn't focus on what her body was doing as he towered over her possessively. She felt him tug her lace boy shorts away, leaving her bare to him. His eyes wandered over her appreciatively, hungry for her. Her hands pushed his boxers down his hips and she heard him his in delight as her fingernails grazed his inflamed flesh.

She felt him pull her legs apart and coax her to lock them around his hips as he slowly entered her. The feeling consumed her, him stretching her until she felt she couldn't take anymore. The pleasure was soon replaced by pain, her breath catching in her throat. Sensing her discomfort he tensed and met her eyes.

"Are you a.." he trailed off looking at her in concern.

"Not anymore," she whispered breathlessly pulling his mouth to hers. "Don't you dare stop Oliver Wood," she scolded him between clenched teeth. The pleasure was flowing back into her as her muscles relaxed around him.

Felling her relax, he pushed further into her heat, clenching his teeth at her tightness. Had he known she was a virgin, he would have been gentler with her, taking more time to get her accommodated to his size. He was losing his mind as she raised her hips up to pull him in more.

"Claire, I need you to ease up, I don't want to hurt you, love. Just let me be gentle with you this once, then I promise we can try it your way next time," he groaned into her neck.

She loved the way his lanky body felt on top of her. He had just the perfect amount of muscle for her to run her hand over, his long arms and legs keeping a more athletic tone, versus bulk. She loved the way he smelled like the rain, and the way his voice carried that Irish lilt to it when he spoke to her. His voice alone could make her toes curl in delight. She had seen a naked man before, but never one as well-endowed as him, and the picture of him naked inside of her, made her walls clench. She knew she had clamped down tighter on him, when his breath hissed in his throat and his fingers fug into her hips. She could see the concentration taking over his face as he tried to hold himself off as long as possible. Feeling the pressure build inside of her, she wrapped her legs tighter around his hips, pulling him in deeper even against his warning. At the new sensation of him hitting her pleasure spot, her walls clamped down on him, her orgasm taking over causing heat lightning to erupt outside her window. She felt him shudder into her as he let himself go inside of her.

He laid on top of her, relishing in the way her body felt under his, as he heard the soft tinkle of rain on the glass window panes. "I think we made it storm," she grinned into his throat as she placed a warm kiss to it.

"We needed the rain anyway," he joked. The grin escaped his face, replaced by concern as his eyes met hers. "If you had told me you had never been with a man before, I would have been gentler with you."

"I didn't need gentle. I needed exactly what you gave me," she scolded him. "If I want gentle, I would get a kitten."

"I'm allergic to cats," he grinned at her.

"Well then it goes to say that it's a damn good thing I don't want one then!"

He pulled out of her, and laid next to her, wrapping his arm around her. "Are you okay?"

"I think I will be," she admitted. "I haven't gotten that bad since my sister died. I was training in New Orleans and caused a hurricane that killed hundreds. But I'm glad you are here. It seems like it should be a scary idea, having this ultimate pairing with someone, but instead it's comforting knowing that out there is someone perfectly match. You know you'll never be alone."

"Aye, that does sound good. I thought you would have ran for the hills, most women would have. But I should have known better. You're pretty damn intimidating actually," he laughed. "I have finally met my match in more ways than one."

"We should get back downstairs I think. I need to help repair the damage I caused. I think it's best if they try to get hold of my other sister if possible. Maybe she'll know something about all of this since she's in that file."

"Okay, but only if you're ready, love. You can take all the time you need. Plus, I think 'm going to need another shirt," he laughed.

"Hmm, now I wonder if there is any way to miraculously fix that shirt," she said tapping her chin. "If only I knew anyone who could do magic," she teased.

"Alright, alright. I get it. I'll fix it."

After they dressed, they headed downstairs to help clean up the mess she'd made, to find the warehouse completely back in order. Claire sighed in relief as she ran up to Luna.

"Everything's going to be okay," Luna soothed her, wrapping her arms around her sister. "They decided to track down Pansy and get her here. Hermione and some of the others are downstairs checking on the toys. I think Draco is a little taken with a few of them personally."

"I'm so embarrassed," Claire managed to get out tearfully.

"Don't be, love," Oliver corrected her pulling her away from Luna and into his arms. He could feel her body relax under his touch and knew that she was glad he was around for all of this.

"So, you two, huh?" Blaise teased walking up the stairs from the lower level. "First it's Draco and Hermione, and me and Jessa, now you?"

"Guess so," Oliver conceded with a smile. "What can I say? Look at her. Have you seen anyone more perfect in your life?" Claire blushed in response to his tenderness, wrapping herself in closer to him.

"Well unlike you horn dogs, I'm keeping my legs together until I know what the hell is going on here!" Jessa laughed meeting Blaise at the landing.

"Um, when were you planning on telling me this?" he demanded.

"Well, I'm not just gonna throw my first time away just because my hormones tell me to!"

Blaise gulped at what she had just openly admitted. "Oh," he whispered. His hand grabbed hers, pulling it to his mouth. "I can wait as long as you need then."

"I'm sorry Blaise, I thought you understood," she whispered back to him.

"It's fine, Jess," he replied using the nickname he'd given her. "I will wait for you 'til my dying day if I have to."

"Well let's certainly hope it doesn't get that far," she said with a faint smile on her face. They all noticed it didn't quite reach her eyes, knowing the seriousness of their situation. "Claire, what are we going to do?" Oliver and Blaise looked at her in confusion, but evidently Claire and Luna knew exactly what she was referring to.

"I think all four of us know that this was not a job, we would retire from. You will do whatever your heart tells you to do," Luna replied. "I am fine coming back and settling down at my father's house, and Hermione obviously is making some sort of backup plan," she said gesturing to the warehouse walls. "Claire just discovered she has ties to some form of family here, so that's a big possibility, and you…"

"Have me," Blaise interrupted. "I will follow you anywhere." Jessa wrapped her arms around his neck as if she was afraid of him disappearing from her.

"Harry and Ron went back to Grimmauld Place and Neville and Dean are headed back. They have Pansy with them. Surprisingly enough, she knew you were here already, Claire. Must be a triplet thing," Hermione interrupted coming up the stairs, Draco at her side.

"Hmm, we'll see," Claire frowned. "I know she's probably the only family I have left, but is it okay if I still don't want to accept that I've had another sister for twenty-five years that I knew nothing about. I mean, I guess I should be jumping up and down, but to be honest I am a little apprehensive."

"I think we'd all keel over if you ever jumped up and down," Jessa laughed. The sounds of the garage door downstairs opening, killed their humor. "You gonna be okay with this?"

"I need to see it for myself," she admitted to her concerned sister.

When Dean had arrived at the Parkinson estate with Neville he wasn't sure what he had been expecting. From what he had remembered of Pansy during their years at Hogwarts, she had always seemed the epitome of a Slytherin; spoiled, hateful, with a superiority complex about her. He had always pegged her for the typical dark sided, pure blood witch that made the lives of those with lesser blood statuses torture. The estate itself was a huge contrast to the dark and menacing home he had expected; when their car pulled through the large ornate gates, he was shocked to see rolling green lawns adorned with an intimate gazebo and fountain, rows of hedge roses skirted the property. The long, paved drive led to the house itself, its light stone walls coated in flowering vines. Green shutters adorned the windows, a huge contrast to the warm, red door. He smiled at how comfy the house looked, reminding him of a hidden cottage, nestled in some secret garden.

As he stood on the small porch, hesitating to knock, he could smell the sweet, welcoming smell of fresh baked bread wafting out of a slightly ajar window. The combination of the scent and the loud pop music that accompanied it was shocking. He shot a questioning look to Neville as if to wonder if they had the right house.

"Go on then mate," Neville encouraged.

Before Dean could grasp the dark metal door knocker, then door swung open to reveal the raven haired woman herself. "Oh, you guys are here a little sooner than I expected," she exclaimed a little flustered. Dean noticed a smudge of flour on her cheek as she tried to wipe herself clean with a dish towel. "Come on in, I'll just be a few more minutes."

The two Aurors followed her inside, slightly hesitant, exchanging looks of shock. This was definitely the Pansy Parkinson they'd been expecting to encounter. Dean watched appreciatively as her long, jean clad legs carried her through the hallway to what he guessed to be the kitchen. Her bare feet were adorned with little red toenails and he grinned to himself at how Gryffindor it all seemed. As he followed her, he caught glimpses of the other rooms on the main floor, their dark wood trim warm and welcoming. This definitely was not the cold manor he expected her to live in, but a home.

"You all can just have a seat if you want while I wrap this up. Tea?" she questioned them pointing at a kettle on her stove.

"No thank you," they both offered.

"Sorry, I'm such a mess right now! I got Harry's message and sort of panicked. If you can't tell, I tend to do mundane tasks in my nervousness," she explained pointing to a basket filled with wrapped up packages.

"What is all this?" Neville asked sniffing a foil covered rectangle.

"Um, some sweet bread, cookies, I think there's an apple pie in there somewhere too," she laughed absently. "Let me go throw a bag together and we can get on the road. I spent the last hour throwing a crate together of some things for Claire, then got caught up in all this that I forgot about myself completely!"

"You have flour on your face," Dean said leaning forward to brush it from her cheek. He mentally scolded himself. _Why the hell would you do that you fool? Now she probably thinks you're some weirdo pedophile. _He quickly jerked his hand back from her face.

"Oh, thanks," she whispered to him breathlessly. "Um, I'll just be upstairs a few minutes. There are a few crates in the living room with some files and some books and pictures and such that need to go with us, if you don't mind."

"Sure," Dean coughed trying to pull himself away from her. "Yeah, I'll just go get those then."

Neville just sat at the counter, laughing at his friends' lack of tact. Yes, he himself had been shocked at the change in Parkinson, but the way that Dean was tripping over himself, proved that his friend was a little more than shocked, smitten even.

Dean cursed himself as he loaded the heavy crates into the trunk of the car. _Damn, when did Pansy get so hot?! _ He remembered her years at Hogwarts, her round face and gaunt eyes making her look more pug-like. He knew that all of the Slytherins kept an ill look about themselves, and perhaps that was what haunted her features so much. Granted, everyone had awkward teenage years, himself included. But what few charming features she may have had in school were paled in comparison to the warmness she gave off now. Her face had taken more of a heart shape as it had filled out with maturity, her little button nose suited her face. He eyes which were once sunken and dark, were full of life, fitting her face, bringing a softness to it. Yes, there was no doubt that she was beautiful. Her frame had filled out as well, her too thin body from before, had definitely matured into a curvaceous womanly figure. He could see the striking similarity to Claire in her now.

Originally he doubted the two being related, let alone sisters, but now he could see it clear as day. He was unsure as to why he held such an attraction to Pansy, yet very little to Claire. As he loaded the last crate in the car, he could feel her getting closer to him and looked up just in time to see her standing next to him an overnight bag on her shoulder, the box of baked goods in her arms. "Got any more room in there?" she smiled at him, pointing to the trunk.

"Um, yeah…sure," he tripped over his words. _Get a grip, mate! Get it together you blithering fool! _

"If not, I can just keep it in the backseat with me," she offered, heading to the back door of the car.

"Oh, no that's okay, let me get those!" _Smooth, man. About time you formed a coherent sentence. _Shocked by his change in mood, she stared at him wide eyed as he pulled the box and bag from her arms and ran around the car to deposit them in the back. They were both pulled out of their awkward position when Neville emerged from the house, keys in hand.

"You two ready? I just spoke with Blaise, and he says they've got her under control, again and the place put back together," he explained looking between the two.

"Is she alright? I felt the shift in her earlier, but couldn't bring myself to apparate to her. It's shocking enough I imagine, knowing you've had another sibling for your entire life, without them miraculously popping up right next to you," Pansy laughed trying to cover her frustration.

"You can sense her?" Dean questioned.

"Oh, yes. I am the ultimate anchor between the three of us. But that's a story for later. It's long and upsetting and I really only want to tell it once."

"I understand," Neville offered. "Well, we need to get going, looks like will be getting back pretty late as it is.

As they pulled down the driveway, Dean could feel her surge of energy placing her wards on the estate and as he looked back at the house he could see it transform into what appeared to be a dilapidated shack in the middle of an ancient cemetery. He shock a glance over his shoulder to see her wipe a small tear from her eye.

"You alright?" he questioned her concerned,

"Yes, I just can't shake this feeling that I'm things are about to be very different from now on, and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad one. I really don't know if I can handle this going badly, I can't go back to the way I was before," she trailed off.

"Before what?"

"You'll see Dean," she said staring at him, a smile playing on her lips. He felt the blood rush to his face at the sound of his name coming from her mouth. This was definitely going to eb an interesting turn of events. _How long did it take to get here? An hour and a half? Maybe less? I think I can make it that long. Just don't look at her. Oh hell, you're screwed mate! God, I want to be in that back seat with her! What, are you some randy sixteen year old all of a sudden? Get your head on straight, and remember this is all work._

They all rode in silence, while occasionally Neville would change the radio station, trying to cover the grin that he had held throughout their trip back. He could feel the tension in the car and knew it could be cut with a knife. Pansy would graciously offer them a cookie and they'd accept without saying anything, and she'd back into her seat to stare out the window at the passing scenery. When they pulled into the garage at the warehouse, the car pulse in anxiety and both Aurors knew it was coming strictly from her. Neville turned the car off and climbed out to get Pansy's door for her.

"Thank you," she whispered staring at the toe of her tennis shoe.

"Hey," Neville started pulling her chin up. "Stop worrying, most of us already know who you are, and I think deep down Claire does too. She reminds me a lot of you from school, she's super tough, but in a sense she is like you now, a little more open and welcoming. Just forget about whatever it is you are thinking about, and know that Dean and I won't leave your side. Isn't that right mate?" he asked glancing at Dean.

"Oh, yeah, right. I won't go anywhere. If you don't want me to, that is," he muttered.

"That would be nice," she said with a small smile creeping back up her face. "Might as well get this over with. It's going to be a long night."

"Nah, just bring the box of sweets and I think it will all be ok," Neville elbowed her jokingly, a reassuring grin on his face.

The three of them traipsed up the metal stairs, all laden with boxes to be welcomed by staring, calculating faces. Pansy smiled to herself at how Dean and Neville had stood in front of her, protectively shielding her from whatever the others in the room might say or do. She cautiously took a step out from behind them and locked eyes with Claire. Before anyone knew what had happened, both women lunged at each other, Pansy dropping her bag in the process. The room stared in shock as they wrapped each other tightly in an embrace, tears falling softly.

Pulling away, Claire cleared her throat, staring at Pansy, "Oh my gosh you look so much like her it hurts. I'm sorry. I'm Claire," she muttered looking at her long-lost sister. She ran her hands over Pansy's face as if to test whether or not she was real.

"Yeah, exact for the hair. It seems neither of us got her curls," Pansy laughed between wet sobs, fingering Claire's long, straight hair. Her statement seemed to make Claire tense and pull away sharply.

"How the hell do you know about her hair?" she seethed accusingly jerking out of Pansy's grip.

"Listen to me Claire, I have a lot to tell you, but I think we all need to sit down and discuss it," Pansy warned, picking up on the hostile vibes from her sister.

Everyone in the room could feel the energy immediately change, small bursts of power radiating from Claire, quickly extinguished.

"Dammit Oliver, let me go!" Claire screamed across the room.

"Love, I'm not doing anything," he warned.

"Like I said, Sis," Pansy said warningly. "You need to. Sit. Down." Her hand reached out and pushed against the air in Claire's direction, forcing her into a chair. Oliver started moving forward to her. "Wood, I'm not going to hurt her, I promise. She should be able to feel that too. But I refuse to be the bad guy here. I have lived my entire miserable life in a lie and I won't sit back and let everything I have done be wasted because princess here has trust issues."

Dean smiled at how quickly Pansy had shifted back into her Slytherin ways, He snuck a glance at Blaise and Draco who were both smirking at each other. Clearly they recognized the new attitude.

"Claire, I already told Dean and Neville that I plan to lay this all out only once, and that's it. But it will need to wait until Potter gets back…"

"Already here Parkinson," laughed Harry entering the room. "So as I can see, you all have already been introduced," he grinned between the two sisters. "Good to see you Pans, you really have changed, haven't you?"

"I think we can all drop the shock Potter," she snarled. "If you lived the shitty life I did, you probably wouldn't have fared half as well as I did."

"Touché," he smiled. "Well I can sense that Claire doesn't appreciate being held captive in her own home, so I suggest we get this going. No need to wait on Ron, he's back at the ministry pretending to check in with Kingsley on our progress. Not to worry though, he has rehearsed his script very well, he's not going to divulge any information about any of this. "

Claire felt her invisible binds slacken and stood up to pace across the room. "I want to know everything, now," she snarled.

"Well as you know, we were born in England and for the first year, our parents fought the ministry in regards to our registration. Eventually our parents came to an agreement with the ministry, choosing to leave one baby in the realm of the British ministry in the care of a designated family and the other two would be taken back with our parents to the States. I was left in the care of the Parkinsons, a distant relative of our parents to be reared under the instruction of the ministry. I was to be melded into the ideal tool to be used at the ministry's disposal. I was reared in the elite Pureblood society that Draco and Blaise know so well, and forced into the Slytherin ranks once I reached Hogwarts. What the ministry did not anticipate was the complexity of the bond between the three of us. I stayed sickly as a child, but it became substantially worse when my abilities heightened. When I got to Hogwarts and we were all flooded with the knowledge of spells and such, I became even weaker. That's why I pretended to be a complete dolt.

I stayed under the radar intellect wise even though to be honest, my talents could surpass Draco and Hermione the entire time. The stronger I became in my abilities, the weaker my body became because I was missing the other components I needed to thrive."

"Why did they chose you to stay?" Claire demanded.

"We were born under the prophecy of a triad. The most powerful pairing in the wizarding world. You and Courtney were compatible pairs, you could manipulate earth and fire, she the wind and water. Myself on the other hand, I am more the ultimate destroyer. I have the ability to shift virtually everything, human senses, abilities, perception. I am the ultimate con artist, as I apparently proved to every one of my classmates. When the ministry shifted powers in our last year there, I was being watched even closer, they killed my family in front of me and sent me to school to help bring down Harry. I couldn't bring myself to do it, so I ran after the final battle, found our Grandmothers estate and stayed there until one day I received a visitor. It was a Monday in May," she began glancing at Claire. "And I think you know who my visitor was."

"Courtney? She's alive?" Claire demanded launching across the room to Pansy. "Where is she? Is she okay? Why wouldn't she tell me any of this?"

"Claire, she was protecting you from ending up in the same situation she and Hermione ended up in."

"Me?" demanded Hermione. "What do you mean, my situation?"

"I think you all need to sit down," Dean warned sensing the change in tension.

Once everyone found their way to the sitting area, Pansy continued. "When Courtney arrived at my doorstep, she was frantic. I knew who she was right away. I had been researching you all my entire life, and of course it didn't hurt that she looked just like me," she laughed. "She claimed to have fled the IMF because of the experimental program she had signed up for. She was hysterical, going on about something about Longbottom and same guy named Goeffrey and wanting results. I had no clue what she was on about. She stayed here for a few weeks before I really got any tangible information from her. In those few weeks, my abilities started coming easier to me, I had more control, and she was starting to change little by little in my presence. Apparently our connection had grown too weak over the years and was starting to bolster one another."

"What did she mean by experiments and results?" Asked Harry.

"Well once I had her secured for her safety, I decided to go into the program and get some answers the only way I know how, by shifting the general perception of virtually everyone," she smiled ruefully. "If you all remember sordid rumors about Kingsley and myself having an affair," she suggested at everyone's nod she continued. "Well let's just say that was some of my best work. I was able to shift things enough to play the entire ministry and the public all from the comforts of my home. If you'll look through the cases I've brought I think you will recognize almost everyone in there." She handed out a large stack of folders.

"These two are two of the victims," Neville added.

"So are these," Jessa said.

"Yes, you will see that all of those folders match your slew of deaths. All were apparent failed experiments from the ministry. I suspect they all were in similar programs such as you all, and when they found out about the ministry's plan they fled. Either that, or if they failed at their task, they were disposed of accordingly."

"I still don't see how I am part of any of this," added Hermione.

"Think, Granger! You were on one of the original lists, but when you left the wizarding world and married that man, you ruined their plan for you. Why do you think they were so welcoming when you decided to come back? At that point they'd already lost Courtney and had to go with the understudy with Claire. They realized that their plan could actually work out."

"But, I still don't understand what their so-called plan was," admitted Hermione.

"You're muggle born, right? When scientists do an experiment, what do they want more than anything? Positive results. A Product of sorts from two variables." She watched Hermione's eyes widen in understanding, before she continued. "Was anything off when you got pregnant?"

"Well no. I mean it wasn't as if Graham and I had been necessarily trying or anything. We had just enlisted and he was gone and I was in training."

"No conflict between you and your husband about it?"

"Well," Hermione started biting her lip. "Graham had accused me of having an affair. He said the dates didn't match up. Apparently there was confusion in regards to the size of the baby and when we were together." Hermione grew silent, and her face grew pale in realization, "Oh my God!"

"See. I knew you could put two and two together Granger."

"Her last name isn't Granger, Pansy!" Draco yelled. "What the hell is going on, Hermione?"

"Lyra wasn't Graham's, was she?" She asked Pansy and at when Pansy shook her head, her tears began to flow.

"Well, if she wasn't his, then whose was she?" Claire demanded.

"When I found out I was pregnant just a few weeks after my first physical for training, I was shocked. I should have been terrified, but the trainers just kept assuring me that everything would be fine. Kept saying, that this was all part of the plan. I thought they were meaning God's plan, or whatever. I had questioned it from day one because instead of being sick or fatigued, my energy level doubled, it was like my body was being fueled by the baby. When Graham died I wasn't as distraught as I thought I should be, I didn't feel empty like you think I would after losing my husband. However when they took Lyra from me, I felt like my heart had been ripped in two, I couldn't function, I lost the last shred of myself I had. Everyone called it depression, but it literally felt like I was dying."

"Hermione," interrupted Jessa, "What physical are you talking about?"

"I don't know. When I enlisted they had me do several physicals, to ensure that I was healthy enough. They questioned a lot of my personal history actually, but I just figured that was standard. Didn't you all have them too?" she suggested to Claire and Jessa. They both shook their heads.

"The only thing I was asked was if I was sexually active, and when I told them I never had, then they told me they didn't need anything else from me," admitted Jessa.

"Same here," added Claire.

"I went back three times for mine, they kept telling me my results were abnormal, until one day they said I was perfectly fine," explained Hermione.

"Then you found out you were pregnant didn't you?" questioned Pansy. Hermione just nodded.

"If you are suggesting what I think you are, then that means I was well into my ninth month when they took me. That means…"

"They tried going after their product," Draco finished, his face pale.

"That still doesn't answer the question as to what all they did to Hermione though," Claire added.

"The way I figure from the files I read, was that they used these physicals as a way to implant the host, fertilization if you will," explained Pansy. "They were wanting to experiment between these pairs they'd created to see what kind of result they could get. A version 2.0 of sorts."

"That means if Lyra wasn't Graham's then she was…" Harry implied.

"Mine," Draco muttered. "Am I right Pansy? They took my sperm and gave it to Hermione to do this?"

"From what I can gather, yes. But they didn't do it just to her."

"Who else did they do it to?" demanded Claire.

"Courtney," Neville answered. "She was pregnant wasn't she? That's why she ran and gave my file to Claire."

"I'm so sorry Neville," Pansy said walking over to him and placing an arm on his shoulder in comfort.

"Did she…is the…I mean, am I…" he stumbled trying to find his words.

"Courtney wanted me to give this to you," she said pulling a picture out of her pocket. "She just turned six, and is probably one of the brightest little girls I have ever met. She is safe with Courtney and knows who her father is, I made sure of that. I know we never got along in school, mainly at my expense, but I made sure that I found everything I could about you and gave it to them."

"What's her name?" he asked his eyes spilling tears at the picture of the beautiful raven haired little girl waving at him.

"Alice. After your mother. Alice Claire," she added glancing over at Claire who had joined Neville on the couch.

"Where are they? I need to see them," Claire demanded.

"I contacted her once I heard from Harry. They are currently living at Hogwarts, Courtney is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts there, under an alias of course. They have made arrangements to be free tomorrow. The headmistress is aware and can't wait to see everyone. McGonagall of course, demands that everyone come," she said laughing, glancing at all of her classmates in the room.

"I want to see her now!" demanded Claire.

"No," argued Pansy. "You are barely holding it together right now even with Oliver anchoring you, I am having to help and I don't think Dean can hold up anchoring me much longer before he passes out. I'm barely hanging on myself."

"What do you mean, Dean's anchoring you?" Blaise interrupted confused, glancing to Dean who sat pale on the sofa. Apparently nobody had noticed how little he'd moved or said throughout the whole conversation.

"He's one of the strongest shields I have ever come across," Pansy explained. "He's been able to keep me from shifting everyone on this block without even realizing it I think."

Dean just nodded. He knew he had started to feel even more exhausted since he had gotten to Pansy's estate, but he just assumed it was from everything going on in the last two days.

"Look," started Harry. "We all need sleep and time to recuperate. I think It is best that we all just head home for the night and we can all make arrangements to go to Hogwarts tomorrow. We will plan on being there a couple days. Maybe we can all get some answers we need. Then once we've all got our shit together, we have got to focus on how we plan to take down the people responsible. The ministry gala is coming up and that is the only time all officials will be together in the magnitude. WE are running out of time and I don't; now if we can handle any more surprises."

"I hear you there, mate," yawned Blaise from the arm chair. Jessa had begun to drift off in his lap. "Looks like I'll be crashing here," he laughed gathering her up in his arms and heading for the stairs.

"I figured you would so I took the liberty to gather up some of your all's stuff," Harry laughed pointing to a pile of duffel bags he'd brought in.

"Thanks, mate," Blaise yelled from the top of the stairs, disappearing on the landing.

"Well, I can't leave Claire like this right now, so love, you're stuck with me too," grinned Oliver at Claire. At her nod he took her hand and pulled her upstairs, stopping to grab his duffel.

"I don't plan on going back to headquarters at all," Draco laughed. "So, Pansy, you are more than welcome to crash in my room there if you want. It's all yours."

"Thanks Drake, that would be nice," she smiled timidly. Dean could sense her growing weary, her demeanor changing from strong and confident to reclusive.

"I can drive you back there if you'd like," offered Dean.

"What about Neville?"

"Oh don't you all worry about me, I'm going to hang out here a little longer. Go through some of these pictures," he added holding up a stack of photos of Courtney and Alice.

"I'll keep an eye on him," offered Luna, seeing the concern on Pansy's face. "I'll fix the pullout for him so he can crash here."

"Okay, but only if you're sure you are alright," Pansy added still slightly worried about Neville.

"I promise I am fine. I am going to have a hard time sleeping anyway knowing that my life is going to be totally different from here on out. I can't wait for tomorrow," he smile.

"They really are wonderful. You'll love Alice no matter what is or isn't there with you and Courtney."

"I love them both already," he admitted. "She gave me something so beautiful and never even met me. It's the best thing I have ever gotten."

"She wouldn't have gotten an abortion even if you were the worst person in the World. She feel the same for you. She hates that you managed to give her one of the greatest things on life and you missed out on it all. Courtney is probably the most selfless person I have ever met. Tomorrow will be good for both of you." She wrapped her arms around him in a comforting embrace. "Goodnight Neville."

"'Night you two," he waved as Dean led her down to the car.

As they drove back to Grimmauld Place in silence Pansy couldn't help but think how right she was about her life never being the same again. It made her smile, yet met her incredibly sad at the same time.

"What are you thinking about over there?" Dean asked drawing her out of her thoughts.

"Just that I was right. Nothing is going to be the same for me. My entire life has managed to shift me."

"It will all work out, I have hope in it," he offered reassuringly.

"I hope so too. Look, I think I should warn you; I'm not like the Mamba's. I don't think I could ever be paired the way they are. I can feel your ability to anchor me and that is by far the most comforting and confusing thing I have ever experienced. But, please know that I don't know that I can give you what they have. I can fight alongside you, be that other piece, but I don't know that I can be intimate with you or anyone for that matter."

"Well, seeing as how I wasn't really expecting you to be intimate with me, I am okay with that," he laughed. "Don't get me wrong, that would be a major perk to this whole business, but I do realize that my other teammates have potentially compromised themselves and their other halves by establishing actual physical relationships in the last two days. I take intimacy very seriously, and going into something like that lightly can be a catastrophe."

"Agreed. However, don't think that I'm not one hundred percent attracted to you," she smiled staring out the window. "I am human of course. I just want to be sure than when we do develop that sense of connection, we are both ready."

"You said when."

"What?" she asked confused.

"Just a second ago you said you didn't know if you'd ever be able to be intimate with me , then just now you changed it to _when _ we are physically together instead of _if_," he teased.

"Like I said, I am human," she replied. They rode the rest of the way to Grimmauld Place in silence, both with smiles fighting to emerge. When they entered the dark entryway, she turned to him. "Where was Draco's room?"

"Um, right next to mine," he replied, shuffling his foot.

"Well, lead the way then," she gestured for him to lead her to it. She followed his tall frame up to the third floor landing, trying not to stare at his butt as he climbed the stairs in front of her. Like she said, she was only human, and he was definitely worth looking at. She could admire the way a physically fit man could wear a pair of jeans. He was definitely physically fit. His jeans hugging is long legs, the sleeves of his button-up rolled op to his elbows showing of his muscled arms, his dark skin tempting her gaze. He kept his hair shorter than he had in school, probably much more practical in his line of work. _God, how I wouldn't love to just rip that shirt off him and run my hands down that caramel skin._

Dean rounded on her, halting her in her steps. "You know for someone who doesn't know if they want a physical relationship with me, your thoughts are really contradicting your words," he muttered to her, his voice deep and husky.

"I don't have a clue what you are talking about," Pansy threw back at him.

"You've exhausted yourself and you are shifting me and don't even know it. I can feel you unbuttoning my shirt and running your hands on my chest. I can feel your eyes on my ass and my legs. Ring a bell?"

"Oh my God! I'm so embarrassed," she whined covering her face with her hands.

"Don't be embarrassed, just be thankful I am able to shield my thoughts from you with what little strength I have left or else the things I imagine doing to you would have you crippled on this floor under me right now." He grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her body flush against his. "You feel that?" he questioned pointedly.

Oh yes she definitely could feel his arousal against her, the feel of it made her mouth water in response, her heart beat frantically. At her nod he leaned his head in, his mouth next to her ear and he continued, "I may not have been your biggest fan growing up, but know that I am rooting one hundred percent for you right now. You and only you. I don't care if this is all just some big cosmic experiment or whatever. I want you and whenever you decide you want me too, I'm am literally across the hall." He pulled away from her and pushed her door open then stormed across the hall to his, slamming the door shut in her face.


End file.
